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The Kentucky Ranger 


By 

EDWARD T. CURNICK, A. M. 

il 

Author of 

A Catechism on Christian Perfection. 


The Christian Witness Co. 
Chicago, HI. 









?2s 

■ Cll 3 




AUTHOR’S NOTE 


Tlie story, “The Kentucky Ranger/’ to a large extent 
is built taround the life and character of one of the most 
famous early pioneer preachers of the West. 

Many of the incidents in his career are recorded, but 
have been treated as to time, place and authorship ac¬ 
cording to the demands of the work with the freedom be¬ 
longing to the writer of fiction. 

A number of years ago some of the chapters in the nar¬ 
rative were printed in “The Epworth Era,” of Nashville, 
Tennessee. Thanks are hereby extended to the paper 
for releasing the copyright. 


Copyright 1922 

THE Cl TSTIAN WITNESS CO* 




The Kentucky Ranger 


CHAPTER I. 


The Ranger. 


/'"''LORY to God! another sinner’s down! Glory! Hal- 
^-*lelujah! Amen; Pray on, brother; you’ll soon be 
through. Glory! Glory!” 

These words were shouted by two young men and a 
young woman who were returning through the Kentucky 
woods from a camp meeting. They were riding in a smart 
spring wagon drawn by two good horses. The young 
man who was not driving would fall into the wagon, cry¬ 
ing for mercy, and the driver shouted: “Glory to God! 
another sinner’s down!” and the young lady added: 
“Keep on praying, brother; you’ll soon be saved. Glory! 
Gloiy to God!” Then the young men would change 
places, and the other would shout: “You’ll soon get 
through, brother; pray on. Glory!” 

These persons acted thus to tantalize a camp meeting 
preacher who was riding on horseback ahead of them. He 
detected their mockery and tried to outride them; but his 
horse being somewhat lame he could not escape them. 

The preacher remembered that at a little distance be¬ 
yond the road ran through a swamp but that a bridle 
path wound around it. Putting spurs to his horse he 
made for this path but the driver, keeping in the road, 

1 



2 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


whipped up his horses. Driving into the swamp in his 
haste and excitement he did not notice a stump at the 
side of the road. Crash! went the fore wheel against the 
stump, and mounting to its top over went the wagon into 
the mud and water. The two young men took a flying 
leap into the swamp, and the young lady was thrown out. 
She was almost smothered before she was rescued by the 
young men. While they were in this predicament the 
preacher rode up to the edge of the morass. Raising him¬ 
self in his stirrups he shouted at the top of his voice: 
‘‘Glory to God! Glory to God! another sinner’s down! 
Hallelujah! Glory! Glory!” Then he added: “Now 
you poor, miserable sinners, take this as a judgment from 
God upon you for your meanness, and repent of your 
wicked ways before it is too late.” With this he left 
them, covered with mud and shame, to their reflections. 

Jasper Very (for this was the preacher’s name) con¬ 
tinued on his way, now laughing at the sorry plight of his 
mockers, again singing a hymn with such power that the 
leaves of the trees seemed to tremble with the melody, 
and anon lifting his heart in prayer to his Maker. The 
object of his ride through the woods was to visit a settler 
who a short time before had been caught by a falling tree 
and suffered the fracture of his leg. The man of God 
brought the consolations of religion to the injured man 
and his family. After partaking of their plain but hos¬ 
pitable fare, he went to the barn for his faithful horse. 
While he is preparing to mount him we shall attempt to 
describe this backwoods preacher’s appearance. 

We see at once that he is a splendid type of Kentucky 
manhood. He stands six feet two inches in his heavy 
rawhide boots, but his frame is so well proportioned that 
he does not seem so tall. His head is massive and his hair 


THE RANGER 


3 


as thick and disheveled as a lion's mane; it cannot be 
kept in order. His eyes are dark blue, and can twinkle 
with merriment or blaze with indignation. His mouth is 
of medium size, mobile, yet strong; when closed the 
drooping corners give the face a set expression. Great 
firmness and decision are shown by the broad but round¬ 
ed chin, which forms a base for a smooth-shaven counte¬ 
nance. His frame is large and powerful and is overlaid 
with muscles hard as iron and elastic as steel. His hands 
are large and have a Samsonlike grip in them. A long 
coat of homespun cloth is well fitted to his body, with 
waistcoat and trousers of the same material. A black 
stock loosely tied about his neck sets off a white shirt of 
coarse linen. His whole make-up gives one the impression 
of fearlessness, determination and energy, mixed with 
gentleness, kindness and charity. Humor shines in his 
face like heat lightning in a summer cloud. 

Jasper Very's parents were pioneers from the State of 
Virginia. Hearing of the fertility and beauty of Ken¬ 
tucky they, like many others, decided to emigrate to that 
land of promise. In 1785 they, with their infant son Jas¬ 
per, started out to brave the perils of the wilderness. 
Perils there were in plenty. Kentucky at that time was 
the scene of repeated Indian raids, ambuscades, burning 
of homes, scalpings, and other atrocities. The Red Man 
was determined that his choicest Hunting Ground should 
not be possessed by the White Man. The Indians were 
met by such hardy and invincible scouts and frontiersmen 
as Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton and George Rogers Clark. 
For years the conflict was carried on until finally the sav¬ 
ages were driven out of the state and its marvelous val¬ 
leys and hills were left to the white man there to fulfil his 
destiny as the aborigines had theirs before him. The Very 


4 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


family escaped the horrors of battle, massacre and captiv¬ 
ity. They settled on a site of great natural beauty in 
Lincoln County, near the Tennessee line. 

While the physical surroundings of the Yerys were fair¬ 
ly entrancing, we are sorry to confess that the moral en¬ 
vironment was anything but elevating and desirable. In 
fact the neighborhood was considered one of the worst in 
vll the newly settled country. It received the name of 
Rogues ’ Harbor and well deserved the title. Many of the 
settlers had committed crimes in the Eastern States and 
had fled to the wilderness to escape punishment. They 
composed a majority of the people of the district, and 
when arrested for breaking the law swore one another 
clear in the courts of justice. At last the respectable 
people combined for their own protection in an organiza¬ 
tion called the Regulators. Several bloody encounters 
took place between the Regulators and the outlaws before 
order was established in the community. 

Jasper Very was a lively youngster from the start, and 
surely Rogues ’ Harbor was not the best place in which to 
bring up a vigorous and vivacious boy. He early showed 
elements of power and leadership, having a remarkably 
strong and well developed body, being a stranger to fear, 
a wit and a wag, and loving the rude sports and pastimes 
of the period. Apart from the home there were few op¬ 
portunities for mental or religious training. Schools were 
few and scarcely worthy of the name. No newspapers 
were published in that section. Sunday was a day set 
apart for hunting, Ashing, horse-racing, card-playing, 
dancing and other amusements. 

It is little wonder that Jasper became a wild and wick¬ 
ed boy. He was a leader among his fellows in the rough 
sports of the time. His father gave him a race-horse and 


/ 


THE RANGER 


5 


he became renowned among his companions for fearless 
riding. At card-playing he was skillful and lucky. But 
Jasper had one blessed, restraining influence which 
doubtless kept him from going the full course of sin and 
folly—a devout, humble, praying, Christian mother. 

Happy the boy who in the slippery paths of youth can 
lean upon the loving arm of a godly mother. 

When sixteen years of age Jasper experienced a great 
change of heart and conduct. It was the turning point of 
his life. With his father and brother he attended a wed¬ 
ding in the neighborhood. With others he took part in 
the uproarious merriment of the occasion. Returning 
home he began to think of his wicked ways, and at once 
felt condemned. His mind became so agitated that his 
body was affected. His heart palpitated in a very violent 
manner, his sight left him, and he thought death -was at 
hand. Very sure was he that he was not prepared to die. 
Falling on his knees he cried to God to have mercy on his 
soul. Though it was late at night his mother heard his 
cries, sprang from her bed, and was soon at his side pray¬ 
ing for her son, and exhorting him to look to Christ for 
mercy. They prayed together a long time, and little sleep 
came to them that night. Jasper resolved from that time 
to be a Christian. He asked his father to sell the race¬ 
horse, and gave his pack of cards to his mother, who 
threw them into the fire. 

However, it was many days before Jasper really felt 
that he was converted. Finally he found peace of mind 
at a camp meeting. We quote from a record of his ex¬ 
perience: 4 ‘On the Saturday evening of said meeting I 
went with weeping multitudes, bowed before the sand, 
and earnestly prayed for mercy. In the midst of a solemn 
struggle of soul an impression was made on my mind as 


6 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


though a voice said to me: ‘Thy sins are all forgiven 
thee/ Divine light flashed all around me, unspeakable 
joy sprang up in my soul. I rose to my feet, opened my 
eyes, and it really seemed as if I were in heaven; the trees, 
the leaves on them, and every thing seemed to be, and I 
really thought were, praising God. My mother raised a 
shout, my Christian friends crowded around me and join¬ 
ed me in praising God—I have never doubted that the 
Lord did then and there forgive my sins and gave me re¬ 
ligion/ ’ He went on his way rejoicing, and before he 
reached his majority became a backwoods preacher. He 
had been ranging over the hills and valleys of Kentucky 
for four years, preaching the gospel in many places, 
when he is introduced to our readers. 

Jasper Very was known early in his ministry as a great 
camp meeting preacher. He was always partial to such 
gatherings, partly because at one of them he had found 
religion. These meetings in the woods, “God’s first tem¬ 
ples,” are of enough importance to merit description in 
another chapter. 


CHAPTER II. 


An Old Time Camp Meeting 1 . 

'T'O Kentucky belongs the honor of originating the 
} modern camp meeting. This is no small distinc¬ 
tion, when we consider how these institutions have spread 
over the land and the great good they have done. Camp 
meetings grew out of the needs of the times. When they 
providentially sprang up in Kentucky, the frontier was 
sparsely settled, most people living miles away from any 
church. Such churches as were built were small and 
could accommodate only a few persons, and preaching 
services were often weeks apart. 

The revivals of genuine religion which usually attend¬ 
ed these gatherings were much needed in the backwoods. 
Most of the settlers were honest, law-abiding persons, 
who had sought to improve their means by emigrating to 
this western country; but many of the vicious off-scour¬ 
ing of the older settlements also went west to hide their 
crimes or to commit new ones. Rogues’ Harbor was only 
an extreme type of many law-defying places. Murder¬ 
ers, thieves, gamblers, defaulters and their kind put life 
in peril, and threatened the moral and social order of the 
state. These camp meetings strengthened and encourag¬ 
ed good people, reformed many bad men and women, and 
thus became a saving leaven of righteousness. 

And what a place for a camp meeting was the Kentucky 
forest. What nature poet can do justice to such sylvan 
loveliness as we find in the “Blue Grass Region V 9 The 

7 


8 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


pen must be dipped in the juices of that Edenie vegeta¬ 
tion and tinted with the blue of that arching sky to record 
such beauty. What stately trees! They seemed like pil¬ 
lars in God’s own temple. The rich, warm limestone soil 
gave birth to trees in form and variety scarce equaled in 
the world. Here grew in friendly fellowship and rivalry 
the elm, ash, hickory, walnut, wild cherry, white, black 
and read oak, black and honey locust, and many others. 
Their lofty branches interlocking formed a verdant roof 
which did not entirely shut out the sun’s rays but caused 
a light subdued and impressive as the light in a Saint 
Paul’s Cathedral. 

In such a forest was pitched the camp to which Jasper 
Very returned. Let me describe this old-fashioned camp 
ground. A large, rough shed was erected, capable of 
protecting five thousand persons from wind and rain. It 
was covered with clapboards and furnished with punch¬ 
eon seats. At one end a large stand was built, from which 
sermons were preached. A few feet in front of this stand 
a plain altar rail was set, extending the full length of the 
preachers’ stand. This altar was called the ‘ 1 mourners * 
bench.” All around the altar a liberal supply of fresh 
straw was placed upon which the worshippers knelt. On 
three sides of the large shed camps or cabins of logs were 
built for the use of the attendants. In the rear of the 
preachers’ stand was a large room which accommodated 
all the ministers who labored in the meeting. The effect 
at the camp at night was very striking. At intervals of 
several rods log fires were kept burning and the bright 
light they threw was contrasted with the deep darkness 
beyond. 

It is astonishing to read how great an attraction these 
<camps became to the hardy pioneers of the Kentucky wil- 


AN OLD TIME CAMP MEETING 


9 

derness. People gathered from all quarters in all kinds 
of vehicles, some traveling thirty or forty miles. Many 
came in covered wagons in which they slept at night. 
History records, that at Cane Ridge, Kentucky, a camp 
meeting was held attended by twenty thousand people. 

It is ten o'clock Sunday morning at Oak Grove Camp 
Meeting, where our hero Jasper Very is laboring. Thou¬ 
sands are in the great wooden structure, filling every seat 
and standing many deep beyond the edges of the build¬ 
ing. The preachers ’ stand contains twenty-five or thirty 
ministers gathered from many parts of the State. The 
crowd has even overflowed this stand, and all available 
room is occupied. 

The Christians present have been prepared for this ser¬ 
vice by the cabin meetings held at six o ’clock in the morn¬ 
ing and a prayer and testimony meeting in the tabernacle 
at eight. And now the service begins. A stalwart son 
of the prophets arises and announces the hymn: 

“Come, sinners, to the gospel feast, 

Let every soul be Jesus’ guest: 

There need not one be left behind, 

For God hath bidden all mankind.” 

He starts the first note, and thousands take up the in¬ 
spiring strain, and the glorious music rolls through the 
forest like the sound of many waters. A passage of 
Scripture is read and a fervent prayer offered. A second 
hymn is sung: “There is a fountain filled with blood,” 
and far away the cadence is heard rising and falling, 
thrilling waves of sound. 

The song is ended. A rustling noise is heard as the 
people settle themselves in their places, and then a deep 
quiet ensues as they look expectantly toward the preach- 


10 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


«rs’ stand. One whispers to another: “Who is to be the 
preacher this morning ?” They are not left long in 
doubt. Slowly the minister arises. It is Jasper Very, 
the star preacher of the camp meeting. He comes before 
his audience with a humble self-possession which is re¬ 
flected in the composure of his face. How did he obtain 
this self-possession? Reader, we must lift the veil some¬ 
what and let you see. 

In the morning he had gone into the deep woods to 
study and pray, as was the wont of the forest preachers. 
Here he had prayerfully and carefully completed the out¬ 
line of his sermon. Then a great burden of unfitness and 
helplessness came upon him. Like his Master he threw 
himself prone upon the ground and poured out his soul to 
the Father. “0 God,” he cried, “who am I, that I should 
be thy ambassador to beseech sinners to be reconciled to 
thee? Who am I that I should stand between the living 
and the dead and offer life and immortality to men ? Thou, 
0 God, only art my sufficiency, my hope, my expectation. 
Stand by my side and help me in this hour, for my need 
is great. This I ask in the name of thy Son Jesus Christ. 
Amen.” 

Coming thus from the hidings of divine power, wfith 
the Spirit of God like dew resting upon him, he announces 
his text: “Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call 
ye upon him while he is near: let the wicked forsake his 
way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him 
return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; 
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.” 

He began by describing the way of the wicked. He 
unmasked sin, showing its hideous deformity, how it poL 
lutes the soul, and makes man unfit for fellowship with a 
holy God. Then he passed on to show the guilt of sin, the 


AN OLD TIME CAMP MEETING 


11 


awful misery coming to a man when he is face to face with 
his iniquities. With great skill he pointed out condem¬ 
nation arising from particular transgressions,—the de¬ 
faulter fleeing from his country, the murderer with his 
yictim’s bloody form ever before his mind’s eye, the lust¬ 
ful man tortured and consumed with the rewards of his 
own folly. Continuing, he proceeded to tell the final 
punishment of these sinners. In those days ministers at 
camp meetings preached a literal hell; and as the speaker 
uncovered the pit of destruction and compelled his hear¬ 
ers to look into it many felt that they were 1 * hair hung 
and breeze shaken” over the mouth of perdition. 

Now his manner changed. His voice, instead of being 
loud and startling like thunder, producing awe and ter¬ 
ror, became sweet, tender, and appealing, like a shepherd 
ealling his sheep to the fold. 

Having opened the wounds of sin, he poured into them 
the cordial of gospel grace. He dwelt upon the words, 
* 1 abundantly pardon,” showing how God had planned to 
put away sin by the gift of his Son and had promised for¬ 
giveness to all guilty mortals who with hearty repentance 
and true faith looked to Christ for salvation. 

As he exalted the world’s Redeemer from one plane to 
another his soul was lifted up with indescribable joy and 
exultation. His voice and form were in attune with his 
soul. We have read that this man’s voice could be heard 
a mile, and on this occasion it surely reached to the ut¬ 
most bounds of that great assembly. Extending his arms, 
as though he would enfold the multitude and present 
them to the Savior, he besought sinners to flee from im¬ 
pending wrath, to come to the altar and be saved from 
sin so that they might “read their titles clear to mansions 
in the skies.” 


12 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


The effect was tremendous. At once a rush was made 
for the mourners * bench and it was soon filled. Many 
were stricken where they sat in the congregation and fell 
on their knees imploring mercy. Around the mourners 
gathered the saints of God, counseling, advising, quoting 
suitable passages of Scripture, praying with the penitents. 
When the meeting finally closed long after the dinner 
hour, scores professed conversion, and a great victory for 
morality and religion in Kentucky had been won. 


CHAPTER III. 


Swapping Stories. 



^HE ministers were in the preachers ’ room on the a£- 


ternoon of this camp meeting day. They were scat¬ 
tered about in delightful abandon. Some had thrown 
themselves on rough cots; others were lounging on rude 
benches which served as seats; the few plain chairs which 
the place boasted were also occupied. Most of the men 
were regaling themselves with the fragrant Kentucky to¬ 
bacco, and the blue smoke ascended in widening spirals 
to the rafters above. They felt they must unbend after 
the severe mental tension of the morning. 

What a fine spirit of comradeship is found among a 
group of preachers of one heart and mind. Can anything 
on earth surpass it ? Here we find the hearty handshake, 
the contagious laugh, faces bright with smiles, a free flow 
of talk. We see hilarity without vulgarity, wit that 
sparkles, but does not burn, as when a bright sally direct¬ 
ed at some brother’s foibles is met with a quick repartee. 
We listen to anecdotes which cheer and enliven the senses 
without hurting the conscience or debasing the mind. 

“Brother Larkin, give us a bit of wit or philosophy 
from ‘Poor Richard 7 or tell us one of your good anec¬ 
dotes.” 

The man addressed w r as John Larkin. He was about 
thirty-five years old and was known as the “square man” 
both as to body and mind. His head seemed more square 
than round, and was set upon a strong neck which rested 


13 


14 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


upon square shoulders. From shoulders to the ground he 
was in the form of a parallelogram. His hands were wide 
and short, the fingers being of nearly equal length, gm 
ing the hands a blunt, square appearance. His gray eyes 
were wide apart, having a sly and merry cast in them, 
while crow lines in their corners gave them a laughing 
expression. His firm mouth and square chin showed that 
he could mingle seriousness with mirth. He was consid¬ 
erably under the average height, but thickset and strong. 

John Larkin was of New England descent. When a 
small boy he had moved with his parents from “’way 
down East” to far-famed Kentucky. There he helped his 
father clear the wilderness and make a comfortable home. 
At twenty-three years of age he was powerfully convert¬ 
ed, and soon after became a traveling preacher. 

John had stored his mind with the homely proverbs of 
Benjamin Franklin and many bright sayings of other 
writers. He saw the ludicrous side of things and was 
fond of telling anecdotes. Hence the request which a 
brother minister made of him. 

“About two months ago,” said Larkin, “I had an ap¬ 
pointment to preach in a private house. The boys of the 
family had a pet sheep which they had taught to butt. 
Going near him, they would make motions with their 
heads, and the sheep would back out and dart forward at 
the boys; but they -would jump aside and so escape. A 
drunken man came into the congregation and sat on the 
end of a bench near the door. He had caroused the whole 
night before and presently began to nod. As he nodded 
and bent forward, the sheep came along by the door and 
seeing the man moving his head up and down, took it as 
a banter and backed and then sprang forward, and gave 
the sleeper a severe jolt right on the head, and over he 


SWAPPING STORIES 


15 


tilted him. The whole congregation laughed outright 
and I joined in with them.” 

The preachers laughed at the story as heartily as those 
who saw the occurrence. One stout parson remarked: 
“The tipsy man surely was the butt of that joke.” A 
clergyman from down Cumberland River way said: “I 
hope the sheep knocked drunkenness out of him and com¬ 
mon sense and decency into him.” 

Larkin, his face wreathed in smiles, turned to a great 
strapping Kentuckian, and said: “Now Brother Harvey, 
let us hear from you.” 

The man addressed was well known by the company. 
Naturally strong he grew up on a farm, where his out-of- 
doors life added to temperate habits gave him a finely 
developed body. He lived with his wife and five grown 
up children on a splendid quarter section of land border¬ 
ing on the Cumberland River. He was a lay preacher, 
cultivating his farm week days and preaching on Sunday. 

“Well, brethren,” began David Harvey, “I could tell 
you stories of wild Indians, panthers and wild cats that I 
saw in my youth, and some tolerably trying experiences 
I have been through since becoming a preacher, but today 
I am going to repeat a tale I heard not long ago concern¬ 
ing Jasper Very. He seems comfortable there sitting on 
one bench with his feet on anothejr, and if my story lacks 
anything he can supply the missing links. 

“Brother Very was attending a camp meeting in the 
edge of Tennessee when an incident of thrilling interest 
occurred. Two young men, distantly related, sons of re¬ 
spectable and wealthy parents, lived in the settlement. 
They were both paying attention to a very wealthy young 
lady. Soon a rivalship for her hand sprang up between 
them, which created a bitter jealousy in the heart of 


16 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


each. After quarreling and fighting they both armed 
themselves, and each bound himself by a solemn oath to 
kill the other. Armed with pistols and dirks they attend¬ 
ed the camp meeting. Brother Very was acquainted with 
the young men, and had been told of the unfortunate af¬ 
fair. On Sunday he was preaching to a large congregation 
on the terrors of the law. Many fell under the preaching 
of the word. He called for mourners to come to the altar 
and the two young men, deeply convicted of sin, came and 
knelt before God. One entered on the right and the oth¬ 
er on the left, each being ignorant of the act of the other. 
The preacher went deliberately to each of them, took 
their deadly weapons from their bosoms, and carried them 
into the preachers’ room. Returning he labored faithful¬ 
ly wdth them and others nearly all the afternoon and 
night. These young men cried hard for mercy, and while 
he was kneeling by the side of one of them, just before the 
break of day, the Lord spake peace to his soul. He arose, 
and gave some thrilling shouts. Jasper then hurried to 
the other young man, at the other side of the altar, and 
he was saved in less than fifteen minutes and, standing 
upright, shouted victory. As these young men faced 
about they saw each other, and starting simultaneously, 
met about midway of the altar, and instantly clasped each 
other in their arms. What a shout went up to heaven 
that night from these young men, and from almost all the 
number present.” 

This narrative strongly affected the group of ministers, 
and some more emotional than others shouted: “Praise 
the Lord! Hallelujah! ’ ’ 

“Brother Very, did I tell the story right?” said Harvey. 

“You told it about as it was,” responded Very, “only 
there is this sequel to add: one of these young men made 


SWAPPING STORIES 


n 

an able and successful preacher. After traveling a few 
years his health failed, and he died triumphantly.” 

A sallow-faced parson from the river-bottoms remark¬ 
ed: “Jasper Very has been through many trying exper¬ 
iences, and I am going to ask him to tell us how he con¬ 
quered that cantankerous woman by tact and muscles.” 

Thus appealed to, Very told the following anecdote: 
“Some time ago I crossed the Ohio River into the State 
of Illinois where I had some preaching engagements. On 
one of my tours I met a local preacher who was a small, 
good natured, pious and withal a useful preacher. He 
had a wife who was a noted virago. She was high tem¬ 
pered, overbearing and quarrelsome. She opposed her 
husband’s preaching, and was unwilling he should ask a 
blessing at the table or conduct family prayers. If he 
persisted in his effort to pray she would run noisily about 
the rooms and overturn the chairs. If unable to stop him 
any other way she would catch a cat and throw it in his 
face while he was kneeling and trying to pray. The little 
man had invited several preachers to his home to talk 
with the woman and bring her to a better frame of mind, 
but she cursed them to their face and raged like one pos¬ 
sessed. Several times he invited me to go home with him, 
but I was afraid to trust myself. I pitied the poor little 
man so much that finally I yielded, and went home with 
him one evening. When we arrived I saw she was mad, 
and the devil was in her as big as an alligator. So I de¬ 
termined on my course. After supper her husband said 
very kindly: 1 Come, wife, stop your little affairs, and let 
us have prayers.’ To this she replied: ‘I will have none 
of your praying about me.’ Speaking mildly, I expostul¬ 
ated with her, but to no use; for the longer I spoke the 
more wrathful she became, and she cursed me most bitter- 


18 


THE KENTUCKY RANGES 


1 y. Then I spoke sternly and said: ‘ Madam, if you were 
a wife of mine, I would break you of your bad ways, or I 
would break your neck.’ 

“ ‘The devil you would!’ she said. With this she pour¬ 
ed upon me such a torrent of curses as was almost beyond 
endurance. 

“ ‘Be still/ said I, ‘we must and will have prayer.’ 
Again she declared we should not. 

“ ‘Now/ I remarked to her, ‘if you do not be still, and 
behave yourself, I’ll put you out of doors.’ At this she 
clenched her fist, swore at me, and told me I could not put 
her out. I caught her by the arm, and swinging her 
round in a circle brought her up to the cabin door, and 
shoved her out. She jumped up, tore her hair, foamed, 
all the time swearing in a terrible way. The door was 
made very strong to keep out hostile Indians. I shut it 
tightly, barred it, and went to prayer. Under such con¬ 
ditions praying was difficult, I assure you, but I was de¬ 
termined to conquer or die. 

“While she was raging, foaming and roaring on the 
outside I was singing with a loud voice spiritual hymns 
on the inside to drown her words as much as possible. 
At last she became perfectly exhausted and panted for 
breath. Then she became calm and still, and knocking 
at the door said: ‘Mr. Very, please let me in.’ 

“ ‘Will you behave yourself, if I let you in?’ said I. 

“ ‘0 yes/ replied she, ‘I will.’ With this I opened the 
door, took her by the hand, led her in, and seated her by 
the fire-place. She was in a high perspiration, and look¬ 
ed pale as death. After she was seated she said: ‘What a 
fool I am.’ ‘Yes/ said I, ‘about one of the biggest fools I 
ever saw in my life. Now, you have to repent of all this or 
your soul will be lost.’ She sat silent, and I said ‘Broth- 


SWAPPING STORIES 


19 


<er C., let us pray again.’ We kneeled down and both 
prayed. His wife was as quiet as a lamb. And what is 
better, in less than six months this woman was soundly 
converted, and became as bold in the cause of God as she 
had been in the cause of the wicked one.’ ” 


CHAPTER IV. 


The Trail of the Serpent. 

E these ministers of grace were engaged in 



▼ ▼ pleasant conversation a different kind of a crowd 
had met not far away. They were moonshiners. Their 
rendezvous was a cave near the top of a hill about one 
mile back from the Cumberland River. A motley com¬ 
pany of about a dozen men they were, dressed in cheap 
trousers supported by “ galluses/’ coarse shirts, and wide- 
brim straw hats. 

Sam Wiles was leader of this band. As these pages 
are often to be burdened with his name, we shall now 
take his measure. He belonged to that part of the popu¬ 
lation called “poor whites.’’ His parents had come to 
the settlement when Sam was a little boy. They were 
poor, shiftless, improvident, ignorant, and, worse than 
all, apparently contented with their lot. They dwelt in 
a log cabin in the hills, and in a haphazard way cultivated 
a few acres of half-barren land, raising a little corn, to¬ 
bacco, hay, fruit, and a few vegetables. There were six 
children in the family, of whom Sam was the oldest. Five 
dogs guarded the house and helped to make the inmates 
poor. “Tige,” the coon dog, was the favorite of this 
quintette. 

Sam Wiles was the brightest of the children, his mind 
being naturally active; but he had little disposition for 
study and very meager opportunities, for 4 'school kept” 
only a few weeks in a year. At the time of this story he 


20 


THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT 


21 


Rad just passed his majority, was somewhat above me¬ 
dium height, solidly built, with broad, square shoulders. 
His brown hair hung several inches below a coonskin cap 
he wore, and was supplemented by a large mustache of 
which he was very proud. 

Behold this leader of the moonshiners as he stirs the 
fire of logs under the still and speaks to his pals: 

‘ ‘ That war a mighty fine trick I played on Dick Grang¬ 
er, the revenue deputy t’other night. He was after me 
with his dorgs, and saw me as I was crossin’ the road near 
Franklin Schoolhouse. ‘Halt, there!’ he hollored; but I 
was not in the haltin’ bizness, and I made tracks fur Pig¬ 
eon Crick close by. As I run he fired off his gun; but 
the light was dim and I was mighty peart, and dodged in 
time. He called to his bloodhounds and said, ‘Sic ’im, 
Rex; ketch ’im Bull,’ but by that time I was wadin’ in 
the crick. I run ’long till I cum to that big white oak 
which grows by the crick where it makes a turn north, 
and I jumped and caught a big branch an’ pulled myself 
up into the tree. Then I walked on the thick branches 
till I got to the furder side, and there war standin’ by 
the oak a mighty fine sugar maple with branches which 
touched the oak. I walked out on an oak branch as fur 
as I could go, and then swung from my hands back and 
for’ard with all my might. At last my feet touched a 
branch and letting go my hands, I swung down like a ham 
of meat in a smokehouse. Soon I pulled myself up and 
made fifty feet crossing that tree, and then I dun the 
same turn to a big walnut tree; and so on till I knew the 
dorgs could not track me, when I dim down to the ground 
and got safe back to the cave.” 

“That war a monkey trick, shore nuff,” said Tom 
“Walker, a gaunt fellow over six feet tall, who was 


22 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


stretched on the ground by the fire, and who, because of 
his height, was usually called ‘ ‘Long Tom.” In his cav¬ 
ernous mouth he held an immense chew of tobacco, and 
ever and anon he squirted tobacco juice into the fire with 
a precision and force which showed long practice. 

“I wish the devil would kill the whole crew of revenue 
officers,” said Wiles. “Why should we be hunted like 
wild beasts for mahm’ a few gallons of whisky? Do we 
not raise the corn, and have we not a right to turn it into 
drink? You fellers know how hard it is to make a living 
on these hills; and if we make more money by changing 
com into whisky, why should we be hindered and our 
lives put into danger? We have a right to make whisky 
and to drink it and to sell it, and I’m goin’ to do it in 
spite of all the officers in Kentucky,” and he brought his 
big fist down with a thwack on his knee to give emphasis 
to his words.* 

“Now yer speaking the truth, pardner,” drawled Long 
Tom as he ejected from his mouth a generous quantity of 
tobacco juice, My father fit in the Revolutionary War 
for liberty ’way down in ole Virginy, and I’ll never sub-* 
mit to have my right to make home-distilled whisky taken 
away.” 

“Always stick to that and you’uns will be a man, even 
if you’uns die with yer boots on.” 

The speaker was Zibe Turner, a creature who would 
pass for a Calaban. A monster he was except his legs, 
which were short and slim, giving him a dwarfish ap- 

*It was impossible for this lawbreaker to foresee that in about 
one hundred years the whole whisky business in its beverage as¬ 
pects would be prohibited by law in the United States, and that 
the sophistry he used would be employed by multitudes in denying 
the eighteenth amendment to the national constitution. 



THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT 


23 


pearance. So lie was a monster dwarf, if such a term is 
allowable. His head was immense in size, covered with 
long unkempt hair. His shoulders, arms and trunk would 
become a giant. A look at his face showed a low fore¬ 
head, black, restless eyes, wide apart, flat nose, and large 
mouth. 

Like Calaban he could be called “ hag-seed/’ or the son 
of a witch and a devil. 

His moral nature was as misshapen as his body. His 
mind was degraded, yet keen in plotting mischief and vi¬ 
olence. His affections were debased. Prospero’s descrip¬ 
tion of Calaban applied to him: 

“Abhorred slave which any print of goodness will not 

take 

Being capable of all ill.” 

The words of Saint Paul to the sorcerer fitted him: “O 
full of all subtlety and all mischief, thou child of the 
devil, thou enemy of all righteosuness.” He was a type 
of those whom the apostle described as “filled with all 
unrighteousess, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, 
maliciousness; full of envy, murder, deceit, malignity—■ 
implicable, unmerciful.” 

Strangely enough, one of the moonshiners had read 
Shakespeare’s “Tempest,” and gave Caliban’s title of 
“monster” to Zibe Turner. From that day he was gen¬ 
erally nicknamed “Monster Turner.” 

“Always stick to dat,” repeated Turner in his deep, 
gutteral voice. “Let’s drink to de health of all moon¬ 
shiners and to de defeat an’ death of all revenue spies. 
Dat’s my holt (hold).” Suiting the action to the words, 
he raised a stone jug nearly full of spirits to his lips and 
taking a long draught, handed it to the next, and so it 


24 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


went the rounds. The liquor, which would have made an 
ordinary drinker intoxicated in a few minutes, had no 
perceptible effect upon these men, who scarcely ever 
tasted water, so commonly did they drink the product of 
their stills; hut it perhaps raised their feelings a trifle 
and loosened their tongues to speak other words and 
strengthened their purposes to perform unlawful acts. 

iSam Wiles then spoke: “Next to these officer dorgs 
who hunt us on the hills and mountains, I hate them 
shoutin' hypercrites who air holdin’ that camp meetin' 
near Poplar Crick. They’re try in’ to make the whul 
county pious, and you fellers know how their head men 
have jined with others around here to appint a vigilance 
committee to drive all such as we’uns air out’n the State. 
Because we believe in pursonal liberty, because we think 
it right to make our own whisky and to race our hosses, 
because we sometimes try our luck at cards and win mon¬ 
ey from the young fools in the valley, they want to put 
the law on our tracks. Now the more camp meetin’s we 
have around here, the less pursonal liberty we shall have• 
and I propose to you’ns that we jine with the boys on 
Honey Crick and bust up the camp meetin’.” 

This proposition was hailed with delight by all the com¬ 
pany except Long Tom. When he had cleared his mouth 
of juice, he drawled out: “Byes, none of ye would like to 
see that meetin’ capsized better nor I would. But we 
must be sure of our ground. I have hearn that the star 
preacher there—what’s his name? Jasper Hurry? No. 
Very? That’s it, Jasper Very. I have hearn that he is 
almighty strong and brave, and we had better be keerful 
how we tackle ’im.” 

“Shucks,” said Wiles, “they air all cowards, and their 
magistrates will run at the first attack; and I say it is to 


THE TRAIL OF THE SERPENT 


25 


our interest to break up that meeting and do it right 
away. What do you say, byes?” 

They all consented to the attack, and took another swig 
around from the big jug to seal the agreement. 

“Now,” said their leader, “it’s time you his went to yer 
homes. Zibe Turner will stay, and we’uns will tend de 
fire. Long Tom, tomorrow you go to Bert Danks, the 
eaptain of the Honey Crick crowd, and ask him and his 
pals to meet us here in de evenin’.” 


CHAPTER V. 


Rowdies in Camp. 

S AM WILES and Zibe Turner attended to the stilt 
while the day began to wane, and shadows cast by 
the tall hills were lengthening over the plain. 

When darkness finally came Wiles continued to replen¬ 
ish the fire and supply the necessary water from a run¬ 
ning stream. His boon companion threw himself down on 
some cedar boughs within the cave’s mouth and was soon 
asleep. His watch would come later on. 

While this precious pair of “wildcatters” are thus em¬ 
ployed, a good opportunity is given us to describe their 
retreat. 

Their rendezvous was called Wind Cave, and was dis¬ 
covered a few years before by a young brother of Sam 
Wiles. The boy, Ephraim Wiles, one day was hunting 
stray cattle on some hills skirting the Cumberlands River, 
when he came to the top of a hill which was nearly bare 
of timber and whose southern side was a sheer perpendic¬ 
ular of rock for several feet down. The boy stood look¬ 
ing over this precipice, lost his footing, and fell down the 
cliff. He was unhurt, for about fifteen feet below was a 
level place a few feet across covered with leaves and moss 
and upon this he landed. When he had recovered from 
his surprise, he looked about him and saw that the hill¬ 
side below him was very steep, with trees and bushes 
growing thickly in the soil. Then he turned his eyes to¬ 
ward the rock, and beheld an aperture of considerable 

26 


ROWDIES IN CAMP 


27 


size partly covered by bushes and decayed vegetation. 
With a boy’s curiosity and daring he crawled into the 
opening, and found himself in a cave of moderate dimen¬ 
sions. Finding in it nothing but broken rocks and white 
walls and a small stream of water flowing along, he soon 
crept ouv, and knowing no way of escape save down the 
hill side, slipped over the edge, and by holding on to 
bushes and shrubs and checking himself against trunks 
of trees he finally reached the bottom, and, returning 
home, told of his discovery to the family. 

From this time the cave became the resort of Sam Wiles 
and his moonshiners, and here they carried on their il¬ 
licit distilling with little fear of detection. They ex¬ 
plored its interior thoroughly, and discovered that the 
cave went north for a considerable distance, when it turn¬ 
ed to the east, its dimensions becoming narrower as 
they proceeded. At last they came to a second entrance 
which opened upon the hill’s side about midway between 
top and bottom. This aperture was partially close by 
fallen logs and decayed leaves and mold. The two open¬ 
ings made the cave a sort of tunnel, and because there 
was always a current of air passing through the passages 
they named it “Wind Cave.” The narrow entrance was 
used for receiving sacks of corn, barrels, and other neces¬ 
saries of their unlawful work, and also for removing the 
whisky after it had been made. The men kept this hole 
well secured by covering it with brush. As the other 
part of the cave was much larger, it was there that the 
still was set up, and there the outlaws usually remained. 

Behold them this Saturday evening brewing mischief 
as well as distilling whisky. They were a reckless, re¬ 
ligion-hating crowd. They were mostly young men, 
though some had passed middle life. Nearly all were 


28 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


shabbily dressed, and of large and bony frame. The 
faces of most were heavy and dull showing marks of dis¬ 
sipation. Others, especially the very young men, were 
really fine specimens of Kentucky physical manhood. 
They had rosy cheeks, bright eyes, and a ready smile and 
laugh. Surely they were worthy of a better cause. 

In a way they were as jolly and hearty, as full of fun 
and jokes, as the ministers themselves. Their conversa¬ 
tion was coarse and marred the King’s English; it was 
boisterous and narrow, but it fitted their characters. 

They were seated on logs or on the moss-covered 
ground in or near the cave’s mouth. Each one was smok¬ 
ing a corncob pipe or rolling a quid of tobacco under his 
tongues. 

These men had no compunctions of conscience either 
as to the lawlessness of their business, or to their desire 
and will to disturb the peace of the camp meeting. Sam 
Wiles sepaks: “Fellers, tomorrer is Sunday, and we Tins 
must spile their ineetin’ on de camp ground. You’ns must 
arm yo’selves with any weapons you’ns can git—dirks, 
knives, clubs, and horsewhips. You’ns, Long Tom and 
Bert Danks, will walk right into de crowd while de 
preacher is spoutin’ and start to break up de meetin’. De 
rest of you’ns must be ready to help.” 

“Right you air,” said Bert Danks, captain of the Hon- 
,ey Crick band. “Long Tom and I will go, and I Tow all 
we’uns can make a rip-roarin’ time, for we’ll frighten de 
people, and be too much for de preachers and magis¬ 
trates. I’ll bring a passel of my bully byes with me, and 
they’ll make things lively at de camp.” 

Long Tom remained silent, but a close observer might 
have seen a look on his face telling that his part of the 


ROWDIES IN CAMP 


29 


program was not exactly agreeable, but he was not a man 
to shirk a hard task. 

“Won't I laugh to hear de women scream and to see 
’em run over benches like scart sheep," said Monster 
Turner. “You’ns will have to be right smart to keep up 
with me on de camp ground, for I’m goin’ to have my 
lightin’ clothes on from hat to boots. Confound ’em, dose 
pesky preachers won’t fight, and we’ll be too many for de 
officers. Dat’s my holt.’’ 

These words wrought the men up to a higher pitch of 
excitement, and Wiles their leader, wishing still further 
to work on their feelings, said to Lem Curtis, a blue eyed 
youth of eighteen: 

“Lem, you air de best singer in de bunch, and I want 
you to lead us in our favorite song. No revenues air near 
tonight, and we’uns air safe from danger if we’uns do 
not sing too loud." 

Thus appealed to, Lem Curtis started a well known re¬ 
frain, the rest joining in heartily. 

After all had paid their respects to the brown jug Sam 
Wiles dismissed the meeting with there words: “We’uns 
shall meet near de edge of de camp on de east at seven 
o’clock tomorrer mo min’, an’ all you fellers be shore to 
be in time." 

Sunday morning dawned beautiful and bright. The 
numbers on the camp ground were constantly being in¬ 
creased by persons coming on horseback, in buggies, wag¬ 
ons, and every known vehicles. Jasper Very was the 
preacher at ten o’clock. Everything proceeded in a be¬ 
coming manner until he was half through his discourse, 
when up stalked near to the stand Bert Danks and Long 
Tom with hats on and loaded whips in their hands. They 
remained standing, and began talking in an audible voice 


30 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


with some women of their acquaintance. Naturally many 
eyes were turned to this scene, and the attention given to 
the speaker was lost. 

Jasper Very stopped in his sermon and, turning to the 
rowdies, said: “Young men, this is a religious meeting, 
held by Christian people, and protected by the laws of 
Kentucky. You will therefore get down off those bench¬ 
es, cease from talking, and be quiet and orderly.’’ 

Instead of complying with this request, both of the row¬ 
dies cursed the preacher, and said: ‘‘You’ns mind yer 
own bizness. We’uns will not get down from dese seats.” 

Jasper knew that trouble was present, and being sure 
that it was vain to continue preaching, he cried out: “I 
call for the magistrates on this ground to come forward 
and take these men into custody.” There were several 
officers at hand; but they, being afraid, declared they 
could not arrest them. 

Jasper spoke to them: ,‘Command me to take them, 
and I will do it at the risk of my life.” Saying this, he 
advanced toward them. “Stand off,” shouted both of 
the rowdies; but the preacher walked forward, when 
Bert Danks struck at him with his loaded whip, but that 
moment Jasper seized him and jerked him off the bench. 
A regular scuffle ensued, and the congregation was in 
great commotion. The magistrates, having found their 
courage, commanded all friends of order to aid in sup¬ 
pressing the riot. By this time Jasper Very had thrown 
Bert Danks down and, despite his utmost efforts to arise, 
held him fast. About the same instant two lusty farmers 
who were standing by the preacher took hold of Long 
Tom and bore him to the ground. 

Then the mob headed by Sam Wiles and Monster Turn* 
er with loud outcries rushed to the rescue of the prison* 


ROWDIES IN CAMP 


31 


ers. They knocked down seven magistrates and several 
preachers and many others. At this point Jasper Very 
gave his prisoner to others, and threw himself in front of 
the order-loving people. At once Sam Wiles confront¬ 
ed him. His eyes were blazing with bitter hate. His 
rage was so great that it weakened his judgment, and he 
struck out again and again at Very to fell him. The last 
time he struck at him the momentum threw the side of 
his face toward the preacher. It was too great a tempta¬ 
tion to resist and Jasper hit him a sudden and powerful 
blow in the ear which dropped him to the earth. 

Meantime the fight was waxing fierce in another direc¬ 
tion. Zihe Turner led a part of the mob to the right of 
the fighting, and attempted a flank movement. He seem¬ 
ed like a personification of Satan. His black eyes glared 
with a terrible fury, and with his long arms outstretched 
he rushed on the fray. His voice of command seemed a 
mixture of beast and human. Women shrieked and fled 
before him, and he had the satisfaction of seeing them 
indeed fall over the rough benches. With oaths and 
shouts his men followed, and many camp meeting folks 
were knocked down and bruised. 

If it had not been for John Larkin, “the square man,” 
the mob might have won. In the midst of all the excite¬ 
ment and noise he remained calm and wise. He had 
helped in resisting the attack in front, when, glancing to 
the right, he saw the monster dwarf approaching, knock¬ 
ing the people about with his long and powerful arms. 
Larkin put himself in his w~ay, and as he got nearer said: 

“Are you monkey, man, or devil, or the three combin¬ 
ed? Whoever you are, you must reckon with me.” 

“Fm de man who can whip ary sneakin’ braggin’ 
preacher on dis ground. Dat’s my holt,” replied Turner. 


32 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


With this he threw himself upon Larkin, and they were 
clasped in a close embrace. The monster dwarf gripped 
the preacher’s body in his terrible arms with a strength 
like that of a grizzly bear, and it seemed to Larkin as 
though his ribs would crack and his breath leave him. 
But while the dwarf’s arms were abnormally strong, his 
legs were weak, whereas Larkin’s limbs were as sturdy 
as an oak tree. Besides, in his school days he had learn¬ 
ed several wrestling tricks, and now he used one to 
throw Turner to the ground. There they continued to 
struggle for some time, the friends of each trying to help 
him. But by this time the mob in the other quarter had 
been subdued; and Jasper Very coming to the rescue of 
his colleague, the monster dwarf was conquered and sev¬ 
eral of his aids subdued and captured. 

All the prisoners were sent to the county seat, and 
placed in jail, there to await their trial before the crim¬ 
inal court over which Judge LeMonde presided. 


CHAPTER VI. 


Under the Pine Trees. 

Judge William LeMonde lived about three miles from 
the camp ground we have described. He was the richest 
man in his township, his farm consisting of one thousand 
acres stretching from the Cumberland River back to some 
high hills about one mile distant. That part lying on the 
river was like a garden of the Lord for richness of soil. 
In this land Indian corn, tobacco, cabbage, and potatoes 
grew to perfection. Midway between the river and the 
high hills was a narrow ridge which ran parallel with the 
river. This natural backbone of land reached its great¬ 
est height on Mr. LeMonde’s farm. But the highest point 
of all had been increased in size by artificial means. In 
prehistoric times a race of people living in this region 
had added earth to this hill until they had made an al¬ 
most circular mound, which became a conspicuous object 
in the valley. Mr. LeMonde’s father, who bought the 
farm many years before, called the hill * 1 Mount Pisgah.” 
He w r as a descendant of the French Huguenots. When 
he came from Louisiana he built a log house on this ele¬ 
vation. A few years before our narrative opens Mr. 
William LeMonde had removed this log house and built a 
spacious mansion of brick. It was the only brick build¬ 
ing for miles around. 

The mansion Judge LeMonde erected was an ornament 
to this beautiful site. It was two stories high, crowned 
with a French mansard roof. It faced the river and a 
country road which ran along the river bank. The visitor 

33 


34: 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


stepped upon a broad piazza, and then entered through a 
wide and ornamented doorway a large hall from which 
ascended a broad flight of stairs. On the left was a spa¬ 
cious drawing-room, carpeted with an imported Brussels 
and adorned with several oil paintings. It contained a 
piano, an instrument seldom seen in those days. Back of 
this room was the owner’s study or private apartment. 
On the right was a room half the size of the drawing¬ 
room, all finished in white, containing on the river side a 
fine bay-window. This room was fitted up with much 
taste as a family living room. At the rear of this was a 
large dining room, and beyond this a kitchen in which 
the colored cook, Aunt Dinah, ruled supreme. On the 
second floor were several large bedchambers furnished in 
a neat and becoming manner. One hundred yards west 
of the house, on the ridge, was a cluster of negro cabins, 
and beyond these an immense barn, the largest in the 
county. 

Viola LeMonde was an only daughter of Judge Le- 
Monde. She had one brother, George, two years young¬ 
er than herself. Her father and mother almost idolized 
her, and gave her advantages far beyond those living 
around her. A fine female boarding school then existed 
at Cincinnati, Ohio, to which she was sent, and there she 
' remained three years, gaining that knowledge deemed 
best for young ladies in those days: the common branches 
of education and the higher accomplishments of music 
and drawing. At the time of which we write she was in 
her nineteenth year, and was known far and near for her 
beauty of mind and person. She was a perfect blonde. 
A bright light sparkled in her blue eyes; her golden hair 
was simply arranged over temples and brows beautifully 
formed. The color of her face was like a delicate peach. 


UNDER THE PINE TREES 


35 


white with a blending of red. Her nose was of Grecian 
type, mouth firmly chiseled and of medium size, while the 
cherry red lips when parted showed two rows of pearl¬ 
like teeth. Her chin was pear-shaped, and revealed de¬ 
cision of character. Her whole appearance gave one the 
impression of intelligence, purity, and benevolence. She 
was of medium height, and her figure would have served 
as a model for the skill of a Phidias. Her greatest ac¬ 
complishment was music. Her voice was a high soprano, 
and its naturally pure tone was improved by cultivation 
under the best teachers. 

Jasper Very’s preaching appointments included the 
home of Judge LeMonde, and he was given a hearty wel¬ 
come from the first to his house. Naturally he had seen 
the daughter Viola and had conversed with her several 
times at the mansion and at church. He soon found that 
she was superior to all the young ladies in the neighbor¬ 
hood both in strength of mind and education. To this 
she added a bright and deep religious experience. We 
must confess that the ranger’s frequent visits to “Mt. 
Pisgah” were not wholly on church business. 

On a bright afternoon appeared a select company of 
preachers, including Jasper Very and John Larkin, sit¬ 
ting under the lovely pine trees fronting Judge Le¬ 
Monde’s mansion. 

The judge had invited them to his house to rest a day 
or two after the labors of the camp meeting. 

The host and his beautiful daughter had joined the 
group of ministers. 

They were a happy and merry lot as they looked over 
the tall, green fields of corn, and beyond to the glorious 
trees lining the river bank, and the sparkling stream seen 
between the trunks of the trees. 


36 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


John Larkin was in his best mood, and the different 
subjects of conversation reminded him of many stories. 
They were talking of a sallow-cheeked preacher who was 
leaving his church located on Salt River. 

“That makes me think of the illiterate preacher I 
heard of, who lived in the northern part of the State,” 
said Larkin. “He was about to give up his church, and 
so delivered a farewell address thus: ‘My dear brether- 
in-ah and sisterin-ah, I am about to leave you-ah, and I 
feel solemncholy-ah, I can tell you-ah. This mornin’ as I 
was ridin’ to this appintment-ah I looked up to the 
leaves of the trees-ah, and they seemed to be sayin’, 
‘Good-by, Brother Crawford-ah.’ And then I see the lit¬ 
tle birds singin’ in the woods, and I fancied they said, 
‘Good-by, good-by, Brother Crawford-ah.’ Then I gazed 
at the purty squirrels runnin’ along the ground and 
climbin’ up the trees, and they ’peared to be barkin’, 
‘Good- bye, 0 good-bye. Brother Crawford-ah!’ After 
awhile I come to a lot of pigs awallerin’ in mud by the 
roadside. When my hoss-ah got just opposite, they got 
up and gave some loud grunts—whoo! whoo! whoo!— 
and that scart my hoss-ah, and he threw me in the dirt 
and ran away-ah. I ris my eyes to look at my hoss-ah, 
and there he was a-gallopin’ down the road with his 
mane and tail a-flyin’, and he looked back at me and 
seemed to be sayin’, ‘Good-by, Brother Crawford-ah; 
good-by. Brother Crawford-ah.’ ” 

“It is a great pity,” remarked Judge LeMonde, “that 
religion sometimes must run through such rough channels 
to water the soil of morality and piety when it deserves 
the best training of mind and voice.” 

“God can use very ignorant Hardshell preachers in 
building up his kingdom if their own hearts are right be- 


UNDER THE PINE TREES 


37 


fore him,” said Jasper Very; “but if they are im¬ 
posters, they are a disgrace and injury to the sacred 
calling. 

“I met a fellow once across the Ohio River whose name 
was Sargent. He assumed the name of Halyeon Church, 
and proclaimed himself the millennial messenger. He 
professed to see visions, fall into trances, and to converse 
with angels. We had a camp meeting near Marietta, 
and this fellow came to it. He wanted to preach, and 
upon being refused pretended to swoon away. One night 
he lit a cigar and got some powder, and walked away 
about one hundred yards where stood a large stump. He 
put the powder on the stump and touched it with his 
cigar. The flash was seen by many in the camp, and they 
came up to find Sargent lying on the ground. After a 
long time he came to, and told the people he had a mes¬ 
sage from God for them. Seeing so many there, I lit a 
lantern and went down to investigate. Stepping up to 
the stump, I smelled the sulphur and saw the mark of the 
burnt powder, and near the stump lay the cigar. As he 
was talking to the people, I stepped up to him and asked 
him if an angel had appeared to him in a flash of light. 
He said, ‘Yes.’ ‘Sargent,’ said I, ‘did not that angel 
smell of brimstone?’ ‘Why,’ said he ‘do you ask such a 
foolish question?’ ‘Because,’ said I, ‘if an angel has 
spoken to you, he was from the lake which burneth with 
fire and brimstone; ’ and, raising my voice, I said, ‘ I smell 
sulphur now.’ I walked to the stump and showed the 
people his wicked trick. They were very indignant and 
called him a vile imposter, and soon he left, and we were 
no more troubled him him and his brimstone angels.” 

‘'What a shame that men will take the livery of heaven 
in which to serve the evil one,” said Viola LeMonde. 


38 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


“Hypocrisy is like a counterfeit coin: it is not only 
worthless in itself, but it also makes men suspect the gen¬ 
uine money. 77 

“Poor Richard says, ‘Honesty is the best policy/ and 
that holds good in preaching as in other things/ 7 remark¬ 
ed Larkin. 

Jasper Very added: “Men who are dishonest cheat 
themselves. They narrow their souls. They grasp after 
a substance and find a shadow. A sure Nemesis follows 
the present gain. The great poet says: ‘Who steals my 
purse steals trash/ 77 

“Sam Wiles is a case in point/ 7 said Judge LeMonde. 
“He surely is cheating himself. But what gave him the 
disposition he possesses* Heredity and environment; 
and not one man in a thousand will rise out of these. The 
fellow has some good in him; but it is strangled by his 
bent and surroundings-, like good seed choked by thorns. 
What say you, Mr. Larkin V 7 

“There is only one hope for him, that is religion, which 
he seems to despise and reject. His superior gifts, mak¬ 
ing him a leader of the moonshine gang, constitute him a 
greater menace to law-abiding people. The Bengal tiger 
kills more prey than the common wild-cat which sometimes 
roams these surrounding woods. I am told that Wiles is 
the ring leader in many reckless acts, and will stop at 
nothing to gain his ends. Zibe Turner, called the mon¬ 
ster dwarf, is his right-hand man, who will pick his chest¬ 
nuts from the fire, though he burn his impish fingers in so 
doing. 77 

“You remember, papa/ 7 said Viola, “when we and a 
few friends had that picnic two weeks ago on ‘Silver 
Knob 7 we passed by the cabin where Sam Wiles lives? 
I felt sad to see his poor mother in her faded and torn 


i 


UNDER THE PINE TREES 


39 


calico dress in the little front yard. She was stirring 
some food in an iron kettle which was over a fire of logs. 
Her eyes had such a dull, discouraged look in them. The 
children were dirty and half dressed, and how the dogs 
barked as we came near! The lot of the 1 poor whites’ in 
Kentucky is indeed unfortunate. Even the slaves look 
down upon them. 

“When I saw the Wiles family and other families like 
/them in their low condition I said in my heart: ‘ Cannot 
something be done for the comfort and uplift of these 
people?’ Gentlemen, I put the question to you this af¬ 
ternoon. ’ ’ 

After a silence of some duration Jasper Very spoke: 

“I am sure something ought to be done and can be done 
to brighten the lives of these poor folks. They live in 
the hills remote from church and Sunday School, which 
they never attend, and exist as heathen in a Christian 
country. Their forefathers in England were among the 
best yeomen of the land, and I believe many of these 
have the making of good, honest, upright citizens.” 

“I think it is possible to organize a community school 
—a combination of Sunday School and day school—for 
these dwellers in the hills,” added John Larkin. “As I 
was riding down ‘Sinex Knob’ the other day I passed a 
settler’s cabin, larger and better built than most dwell¬ 
ings in that section. The owner’s name is Mart Spink. 
He has a wife and several bright-looking children. Per¬ 
haps he would grant the use of his living room for school 
purposes. The Wiles family and a number of other fam¬ 
ilies live near enough to attend.” 

“My thought coincides with the suggestion of Mr. Lar¬ 
kin,” said Viola LeMonde. “We ought to have such a 
school. In it we should teach the truths of religion and 


40 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


also the common branches of learning. Moreover, we 
should help the whole community—the farmers to better 
cultivate their lands and their minds; the farmers’ wives 
to improve their housekeeping, to get out of the ruts, and 
to take a wider interest in developing their own intellects 
and those of their children; the sons to have noble ambi¬ 
tions in life and to prepare to achieve them; the daugh¬ 
ters, besides the moral and intellectual training they re¬ 
ceive, to learn sewing, knitting, cooking, and other forms 
of domestic science. Yes, and I would have a primitive 
dispensary, that the neighbors might have at least first 
aid in case of sickness or accident. Tomorrow I will have 
my servant Hose Williams to drive me in the phaeton to 
David Hester’s house. There I will talk with his daugh¬ 
ter Henrietta, and I am sure I can induce her to join me 
in the project. Together we will explore the ground and 
make a beginning. 

“I shall ask you gentlemen to aid us in every way in 
your power by sympathy, advice, prayer, and work.” 

“Most gladly will I do so on one condition,” Very re¬ 
sponded with a laugh, “that is, that we now adjourn to 
the parlor, and you will favor us with music both instru¬ 
mental and vocal.” 

“Would you have me to be so selfish as to be the whole 
show?” rejoined Viola. “I will do nothing of the kind, 
sir; but I will play and sing if the company will unite 
with me in singing the hymns.” 

This demand was heartily accepted, and the group at 
once left the shade of the pine trees for the parlor. 

Christianity is said to be the only religion that can be 
sung. It began with the angels’ song, and its music will 
continue on earth till it is transferred to the song of re¬ 
demption in heaven. 


UNDER THE PINE TREES 


41 


The hymns of Christendom are among its most cherish¬ 
ed and valuable possessions. They sound the depths of 
the human heart. They express the varied emotions of 
the soul. 

It is no wonder that Jasper Very requested Viola Le- 
Monde to play and sing. 

We behold this queen of song seated at the piano, while 
around her stood her father and her mother (the mother 
having just come in) and the preachers. 

First Viola favored them with several instrumental se¬ 
lections from the great masters. It was interesting to 
watch her hands. They were perfect in size, shape and 
color. The slender fingers were tipped with nails curv¬ 
ed like almonds. They struck the keys with a precision, 
force and grace, leaving nothing to be desired. The quick 
interplay of mind and muscle interpreted the music to 
her hearers in a way almost to produce tears. 

After a rest during which some bright, witty remarks, 
like sparks, passed from one to another, they prepared to 
sing some of the great hymns of the church. They were 
well equipped for their task. Viola’s voice was pure, 
sweet, soulful, and high. She might have been a sister of 
Jenny Lind. Her mother sang also in a rich and expres¬ 
sive manner. Jasper Very possessed a fine deep bass 
voice. John Larkin sang an acceptable tenor. All the 
rest were able to use their voices in song. 

As by common understanding they began with songs of 
adoration and praise. Each one entered into the spirit of 
that inspiring hymn of Charles Wesley: 

“0 for a thousand tongues to sing 
My great Redeemer’s praise, 

The glories of my God and King, 

The triumphs of his grace.” 


42 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


The persons here were advanced agents in bringing 
civilization to Kentucky. They had the heroic spirit. 
These preachers had endured hardness as good soldiers 
of Jesus Christ. They had climbed mountains, crossed 
valleys, forded streams, slept in the open, * encountered 
wild beasts and base and desperate men. Songs to cheer, 
encourage, and strengthen their faith and zeal were need¬ 
ed and provided. Naturally they desired to sing on this 
occasion. So the company sang with zest Luther’s great 
battle hymn: 

“A mighty fortress is our God, 

A bulwark never failing: 

Our helper he, amid the flood 
Of mortal ills prevailing.” 

Then was sung that hymn of triumphant trust, beginning: 

“Though troubles assail, and dangers affright, 
Though friends should all fail, and foes all unite, 

Yet one thing secures us, whatever betide, 

The promise assures us, The Lord will provide.” 

The pioneers of that day had an exultant experience of 
the religion they professed and taught. Viola next turn¬ 
ed to hymns expressing this state. She and those gath¬ 
ered around her sang them with joyous, even ecstatic, 
acclamation: 

‘‘ 0 happy day, that fixed my choice 

On thee, my Savior and my God! 

Well may this glowing heart rejoice, 

And tell its rapture all abroad.” 


UNDER THE PINE TREES 


43 


And: 

“Love divine, all love excelling, 

Joy of heaven, to earth come down; 

Fix in us thy humble dwelling, 

All thy faithful mercies crown. ” 

After they had sung a number of other hymns, Jasper 
Very said to Viola LeMonde: “I have heard, Miss Le- 
Monde, that you have composed the music to a new para¬ 
phrase of the Ninety-First Psalm. I am sure we should 
all be delighted to hear you sing your music to the words. 
Will you kindly favor us by so doing?” 

Viola LeMonde replied: “I am not an adept at compos¬ 
ing music, but the words of this poem impressed me, and 
I joined them to an air which came to me almost spontan¬ 
eously. I shall take pleasure in singing this melody, if 
you will be charitable in criticism.” Thus speaking she 
sang the following words simply but with much feeling: 

The Saint’s Refuge. 

Dwelling in God’s secret place, 

Safe doth his beloved lie, 

Shaded by his sovereign grace 
From the tempests fierce and high. 

Love Divine will hear his prayer, 

Be his refuge and defense; 

Save him from the fowler’s snare, 

And the noisome pestilence. 

Sheltered ’neath the Father’s wings, 

Covered with his pinions wide, 

Truth the ransomed homeward brings, 
Shielding him on every side. 


44 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


Fear recedes from terror’s night, 
Harmless flies the dart by day; 

In the darkness or the light 
Wasting death shall flee away. 
Sees he, falling in their pride, 
Twice five thousand wicked men; 
Rut destruction’s wrathful tide 
Shall not touch his garments then. 
Angels, ministrant, shall fly 
From their dazzling upper zones, 
Charged by heaven’s Majesty 
Him to keep from crushing stones. 
On the lion, bold and dread, 
Seeking ever to devour, 

And the hissing serpent’s head, 

He shall tread with victor’s pow’r. 
God will wipe away his tears; 
Grant him honor and release; 
Crown his life with length of years 
Save, and keep in perfect peace. 


CHAPTER VII. 


The Horse Race. 

We left Sam Wiles, Zibe Turner and other disturbers 
of the peace in the county jail. In due time they were 
brought before Judge LeMonde for trial. They were 
found guilty and sentenced to prison for one month. 

A few days after their liberation the following conver¬ 
sation took place: 

Turner: 11 Most all de folks on de hills and in de val¬ 
leys air goin' to de races tomorrer, and I look for a gay 
o’ time." 

Wiles: “Yes, and all de niggers that can get off'n work 
will be there too. ,, 

Turner: “Dat feller from Lexington has a right smart 
of a hoss. You know he wants me to ride him in de last 
race, and I'm bound to beat George LeMonde, if beat is 
in de critter. His hoss stands seventeen hands high, is 
rangy in de legs, has a deep chest, and has a will to go. 
He can easily bear my weight, and you know dat dey 
count me de best jockey in de whul county. If I can't 
win by far (fair) means, I will by foul." 

Wiles: “I hearn dat Jack Ketcham’s sorrel goes like 
de wind, and Jack's hoss is goin’ to be in de big race." 

Turner: “George LeMonde has been speeding his bay 
over de track for days, and he will get every bit of go out 
of him. His mother and sister are dead set agin hoss- 

45 


46 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


racin' and dey are begging him not to ride; but George 
likes de sport too well to please dem." 

Wiles: “Mr. Rawlins, of Lexington, swears by his 
black, and will put up a great deal of money. George 
will try to match it, and ol' farmer Ketcham won't be 
slow with his cash." 

Turner :“It will be an excitin' time, and I low, as many 
will see de races as went to de big camp meetin'." 

Wiles: “Well, Zibe, you must stick to your hoss like a 
monkey, and do your best to win de money and down 
that upstart, George LeMonde." 

With this remark the two men separated. 

George LeMonde was a youth about seventeen years of 
age, well-built, good-looking, full of life and vigor, and 
at this time engaged in that serious occupation, common 
to many young men, sowing his wild oats. He was boi¬ 
sterous and rather reckless, but not vicious. His moral 
nature was touched by evil, but not yet corrupted. How¬ 
ever, he had begun to walk in the broad way of youthful 
folly, and was in great danger of going its full length. 
He was restrained from drinking the full cup of unlaw¬ 
ful indulgence more by the prayers, example, and love of 
his mother and sister than by the correct moral life of his 
father. 

The greatest danger to that priceless thing, character, 
which confronted him was his association with the hill¬ 
side young men. They never felt that he was one in de¬ 
sire and purpose with them; but sometimes he would 
meet them on the big road by Franklin Schoolhouse or 
occasionally go to their cabins on the hills. Then he 
would sip lightly their moonshine whiskey, join in their 
coarse talk, and share in their few pastimes. 


THE HORSE RACE 


47 


George LeMonde probably inherited his love for horses. 
His father, Judge LeMonde, for many years had raised 
his own colts from the best stock he could procure. On 
his broad acres they had every chance to develop their 
physical powers. His fields produced an abundance of 
the best corn and hay. Skirting the hill which bounded 
his farm on the north were extensive meadows rich with 
grass. Here his blooded stock browsed, ran and grew. 
It was under similar conditions that many Kentucky 
horses were raised early in the nineteenth century, be¬ 
coming sires of the greatest racing stock in the world. 

At the time of which we write Judge LeMonde owned 
a bay, of his own raising, which was his pride and joy. 
The horse, Yelox by name, was far and away better than 
any other he had ever possessed. He was known through¬ 
out the entire county as a splendid specimen of horseflesh,, 
and for beauty and utility had won the blue ribbon at a 
number of surrounding fairs. 

When George LeMonde reached his sixteenth birthday 
his father gave him this fine animal. The son was de¬ 
lighted with the gift, and took the best care of Velox, 
often feeding him with his own hand. George rode his 
horse so much that he learned all the traits and peculiar¬ 
ities of his steed; for horses, like men, have their own in¬ 
dividual make-up and notions. On the other hand, Yel¬ 
ox got to know, trust, love and obey his master. He 
would come at his call, and could be guided when on a 
journey nearly as well by the motions of his owner’s 
body as by the rein. 

George LeMonde decided to enter Yelox for the race 
which was soon to take place, and many times did he ride 
his willing steed over the race course to prepare for the 
great event. 


48 


THE KENTUCKY HANGER 


Horse racing then, as now, was one of the most popular 
diversions of multitudes in Kentucky, but the prepara¬ 
tions then were quite primitive. The track was laid in a 
level piece of -ground some miles from Judge LeMonde’s 
farm. It was in the form of a circle, and was one mile in 
circumference. The inclosure was protected by a rough 
fence, hewn out of logs. Within the course, near the 
starting place, and on the inside of the track, was a stand 
upon which the judges of the races sat. Some rough seats 
were provided for a part of the spectators, but most of 
the people stood during the races. 

Saturday dawned clear and beautiful. It was a perfect 
day to bring out the speed of the racers. The time select¬ 
ed was near the last of August, and a crispness in the air 
gave a faint indication of coming autumn. People from 
far and wide had come to enjoy the sport. They made 
the occasion a holiday. Many came on horseback and by 
team, and families brought well-filled baskets of fried 
chicken, corn pone, blackberi’y pie, and other good things 
to refresh the inner man. 

A number of minor races were run by horses in harness 
and under the saddle, which only increased the people’s 
appetite for the grand event of the day. At four in the 
afternoon the three horses were called for the two-mile 
race. Their riders soon brought them from their stalls 
to a position in front of the grand stand and judges. The 
steeds were all in perfect condition, their glossy coats 
shining with bright luster in the afternoon sun. The 
horses seemed to feel the meaning of the occasion. They 
champed their bits and moved about restlessly as though 
impatient to be off. Their riders, however, had them un¬ 
der good control, and now the judges tossed the coin for 
choice of position on the track. Zibe Turner secured the 


THE HORSE RACE 


40 


inside place, George LeMonde came next, and Hiram 
Ketcham, Farmer Ketcham’s son of eighteen, was on the 
outer rim of the circle, next to the fence. 

The grand stand, composed of rough boards, was filled 
with the best dressed citizens of the county: while far 
down the track, and separated from it by a frail line of 
fence, stood a great company of tall Kentucky pioneers 
with their wives and children. Many negroes were also 
in the crowd, interested spectators, and the small boy was 
much in evidence. 

A silence fell upon the waiting throng as the three 
horses, bearing their riders, proceeded up the track a few 
rods to make a dash for the line. The signal was given, 
and they came like three thunderbolts to the starting 
place; but reaching this they were not abreast, and an¬ 
other start must be made. They tried four times before 
they got away in line, when some one shouted: ‘‘Now 
they are off!” For a few paces they were neck and neck; 
but then Hiram Ketcham’s sorrel, though on the outer 
circle forged ahead. When the half-mile point was reach¬ 
ed, the sorrel was several lengths in the lead, and Zibe 
Turner’s black was leading George LeMonde’s bay by a 
dozen feet. They came in this position down the home 
stretch, and as they crossed the line a great cheering rose 
from the crowd. Turner’s friends from the hills were 
there in large numbers, and were the loudest in their, 
shouts. “Go it, Zibe; you’ll beat, old boy!” “Hurrah 
for de black! push him along!” “Ill bet my money on 
de Lexington hoss!” were some of the words that were 
shouted at Turner as he dashed past the starting point 
for the second mile. Hiram Ketcham did not lack for 
admirers, who encouraged him with cheers and waving 
of hats and handkerchiefs. Many of the farmers living 


50 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


in the rich river bottom seemed to be partial to the sorrel 
horse. George LeMonde’s friends were plentiful in the 
grand stand and, in fact, throughout the crowd. They 
were somewhat disappointed to behold him the last in the 
race; but they saw that Velox was going well, and they 
had hopes for his winning during the next mile. 

As for young LeMonde, he saw nothing and gave heed 
to nothing except the business in hand. Only once did 
he raise his eyes from looking straight ahead between the 
ears of his noble horse, and that was when he was pass¬ 
ing the grandstand. Then he gave a swift look in that 
direction, and was repaid by seeing a young girl of some 
sixteen years of age, Stella Nebeker by name, dressed in 
a pure white muslin gown with short sleeves, waving a 
delicate handkerchief toward him. For an instant their 
eyes met, then he looked along the race course as before. 

LeMonde had a method in his racing which he was now 
working. He knew the reserved powers which were in 
his horse, and he purposely held him back from putting 
forth his greatest speed at the beginning. Turner, the 
monster dwarf, was also using all his skill in horse rac¬ 
ing. His monkeyish face was lighted up with a look of 
more intelligence than usual, which made his ugly fea¬ 
tures more forbidding and repulsive. His eyes shone 
with excitement, determination, and reckless courage. 
His teeth were clenched, and the muscles of his lips 
drawn over them gave him an expression half laughing, 
half demoniac. On the first round his cap had fallen off, 
and the shaggy hair of his head and face streamed in the 
wind, adding greatly to the fierceness of his looks. He 
had perfect control of himself and horse, and rode like a 
centaur, ready to take any advantage which circum¬ 
stances or guile threw in his way. He also had held in 


THE HORSE RACE 


51 


his horse with bit and bridle, reserving his best efforts for 
the closing part of the race. 

During the first half of the second mile Turner knew 
that it was necessary for him to lessen the distance be¬ 
tween himself and Hiram Ketcham, and LeMonde realized 
that he must soon close the gap separating Turner and 
himself. Almost at the same time they gave their horses 
more rein, and they sprang to their work with increased 
speed. Ketcham had taken advantage of his lead by 
crossing the track and taking the narrow arc of the cir¬ 
cle. The three horses were trotting in a line, all hugging 
the inside track. Very soon the distance between the 
sorrel and the black was diminished, and before the half 
mile point was reached the monster dwarf turned his 
horse toward the center of the track to pass Ketcham. 
Just beyond the half-mile point Turner’s black passed 
Ketcham’s sorrel, and LeMonde’s bay was neck and neck 
with the black. A few rods more, and it was plain to be 
seen that the bay was forging ahead of the black. 

The monster dwarf saw at once the advantage of his 
rival, and hissing through his teeth in a low voice the 
words: “Dat’s my holt,” brought his short cowhide whip 
down with force upon the withers of Yelox. It was the 
act of a jockey utterly without principle, an act execrat¬ 
ed by every true Kentucky sportsman. 

The splendid animal never before had felt the lash of a 
whip. The blow had the effect desired by the dwarf. It 
broke the gait of the bay horse. The stroke was so un¬ 
expected and painful that the horse gave a bound for¬ 
ward and upward that almost unseated the rider. Then 
he plunged along the track with irregular strides, some¬ 
times rushing to the sides and then to the center. 


52 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


Though taken by surprise George LeMonde acted with 
decision and judgment. He held his mount with a firm 
hand, and added to the strength of his arm the soothing 
effect of his voice: “Steady, steady, Yelox! Your mas¬ 
ter did not strike you. He loves you. Steady, steady, 
good horse! Yelox! Yelox! Velox!” By these means 
young LeMonde renewed the race, though the other 
horses were a considerable distance in advance. 

In the meantime a large number of the spectators had 
seen the despicable act and roared their disapproval. 
Some shook their fists at the monster dwarf, and cried for 
speedy punishment for his vile trick. This outburst of 
indignation made him fear again to molest the bay horse. 

Now George knew that the time had come for Yelox to 
use his utmost powers. He knew that the horse had great 
reserved fountains of strength in him, and believed he 
could still win the race. As for the horse, he seemed alive 
to the situation. Perhaps he felt a proud resentment at 
the insult and injury put upon him. His eyes flashed 
fire. His nostrils were dilated until the red blood showed 
through his veins. Man and horse gave to each other 
courage and confidence; they appeared no longer to be 
two creatures, but had been merged into a single unit of 
astonishing force and capacity. LeMonde *s whole soul 
was absorbed with one thought—to pass the other horses 
and to cross the line first. He leaned farther front in the 
saddle, lowering his head to reduce the resistance of the 
air. His face almost touched the flying mane of his horse. 

Again he spoke to his mount: “Steady, my Yelox boy; 
we are nearing the end. It will soon be over; but you 
must pass these horses, and win the race.” With this re¬ 
mark LeMonde gave free rein to his horse, pressed his 
knees a little tighter against the animal *s sides, and gave 


THE HORSE RACE 


53 


him a light touch with the whip. The noble horse in¬ 
stantly responded to his master's urge. He released fold 
after fold of knotted muscle, his stride increased, and 
when his hoofs descended, they seemed to spurn the 
ground. Now as steady as a Corliss engine this ultimate 
unit of the animal and mechanical world rushed on, and 
was seen to be gaining on the other horses. 

At a quarter of a mile from the home stake the sorrel 
horse was passed, but still the result seemed uncertain. 
Then young LeMonde appeared as a Jehu incarnate. He 
pressed the horse’s flanks with his heels and shouted into 
the very ears of his mount: “ Velox, we must win, we will 
win, we are going to win.” With this remark, for the 
first time in his life he brought the whip down hard upon 
the glossy hide of his steed. The animal increased his 
speed, and went thundering down the home stretch after 
the black. It is a case of blood against time and space. 
The bay gains! He has closed the distance between them! 
His head is on a line with the other’s shoulder! They 
are only one hundred yards from the goal! The grand 
stand is wild w T ith shouting! Those standing near the 
track, unconscious of what they do, are throwing hats, 
handkerchiefs and umbrellas into the air, and yelling like 
mad men! The judges are sighting the line! They see a 
horse’s brown head and shoulders pass the line, then a 
black head appears, and Velox has won by a neck’s 
length. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Prayer In a Dance Hall. 

When the three horses crossed the finishing line, cover¬ 
ed with sweat and foam, LeMonde and Ketcham soon 
brought their mounts to a stop. Not so the monster 
dwarf. Fearing that the crowd might do him personal 
injury he rode the black horse directly to the stable. He 
was almost beside himself with rage and disappointment. 
He ground his teeth together, and froth showed upon his 
lips. His face v/as hideous in expression. He shook his 
fist in the direction of the race course, and cursed the vic¬ 
torious horse and rider with terrible oaths. 

To Sam Wiles, who had come up, he said: “Anudder 
chance will come. I’ll git even wid dat proud aristocrat 
yit. I’m goin’ to git back all de money I lost today, and 
mo’ too.” 

A different scene was taking place near the grand 
stand. When George LeMonde, with flushed face and 
bright eyes, dismounted from his horse, he was at once 
surrounded by an admiring crowd who showered him 
with contragulations. They praised his skill as a horse¬ 
man, his coolness in a time of danger and emergency, and 
Jiis good nature under great provocation. Many were the 
admirers of Velox. They patted his shoulders, stroked 
his head and commented on his beauty of color and form. 
The horse took it in good part, and seemed to consider it 
a proper tribute to the steed who won the race. 

Among the rest who shook George heartily by the hand 
54 


PRAYER IN A DANCE HALL 


55 


was a stout, broad-featured man of about forty, who was 
dressed in a good suit of blue jeans and wore what was 
uncommon in those days, a large diamond pin in his shirt 
front. His name was Costello Nebeker, and he was a 
tavern keeper on a country road not many miles away. 
The girl with a white dress and shapely arm whom 
George saw* as he flashed past the grand stand was Stella 
Nebeker, the sixteen-year-old daughter of this tavern 
keeper. She came forward, and in a happy way congrat¬ 
ulated him upon his success. They had known each oth¬ 
er for some time; for we are sorry to say, George on va¬ 
rious occasions, having been at the tavern with some of 
his young friend, had indulged in the liquors which Nebe¬ 
ker kept for sale. While at this tavern George had be¬ 
come acquainted with Stella Nebeker, and she soon found 
a place in his affections. She was comely, vivacious and 
sensible, fond of society, a natural leader among her set, 
having most of the accomplishments furnished by the 
schools and social gatherings of their neighborhood. 

Nebeker said to George in his loud and hearty way: 
“LeMonde, today you have covered yourself and horse 
with glory, and incidentally have put a good many dol¬ 
lars into my jeans pocket. Now you and your friends 
must celebrate this victory by a layout (feast) and dance 
at my house. Next Saturday will be moonlight, and 
Stella and I will invite our friends and you must ask 
yours to come, and we will have a jolly supper, and wash 
it down with some first-class Kentucky whisky, and wind 
up the meeting with a party dance.” 

George agreed to this proposal; and after bidding the 
tavern keeper and his lovely daughter a kind adieu, he 
departed to the stable, whither his faithful servant, Mose, 
had led his horse. 


56 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


Costello Nebeker lived about ten miles from Mr. Le- 
Monde’s plantation in rather a rough and hilly country. 
For a number of years he had kept a public house; and 
as his place was the only one of this kind for many miles 
around, and as it fronted on a much-traveled county 
road, he had may customers at his bar and guests in his 
tavern. His house was a large frame structure, the lower 
part of which was used for a bar and lounging place and 
the rear for a dance hall. On the second floor were sev¬ 
eral sleeping rooms, some of which were occupied by the 
keeper and his family, and the rest were prepared for 
travelers. 

The sky was clear and the woods beautiful on the fol¬ 
lowing Saturday evening. As the sun began to hide his 
brilliant rays behind the noble hills covered with regal 
forests, and the moon, nearing its full, was already throw¬ 
ing a silvery light over the scene, those invited to the 
supper and dance were making their way, some in bug¬ 
gies along the main road, but most on horseback, coming 
down hills and across valleys, all moving to a central 
point, the tavern house. 

It is not our design to dwell upon that feast, which con¬ 
sisted of most of the good things then in season in Ken¬ 
tucky, but to come at once to the dance and to a striking 
incident which occurred there. 

Rather late in the evening, after dancing had been go¬ 
ing on for some time, Jasper Very rode up to the tavern. 
He had been on a long preaching tour, and was tired and 
hungry. "When he had dismounted, he asked the proprie¬ 
tor if he could lodge there for the night. Mr. Nebeker 
politely told him he could stay, but he was afraid he 
would not enjoy himself very well, as a dance was in 


PRAYER IN A DANCE HALL 


57 


progress. Jasper then inquired how far it was to a suit¬ 
able house where he could put up for the night, and was 
told seven miles. He felt in his present condition that 
this was too far, and said that if the tavern keeper would 
treat him civilly and feed his horse well by his leave he 
would stay. This was promised him, and Very dismount¬ 
ed and went in. He quietly took a seat in one corner of 
the room, and the dancing continued. While musing up¬ 
on many things and wishing in his heart he could do 
those people good, and having finally made up his mind 
to ask the privilege of preaching there the next day, he 
was surprised to see a beautiful and ruddy young lady, 
who was no other than Stella Nebeker, walk gracefully 
up to him, drop a handsome courtesy, and pleasantly, 
with a winning smile, invite him to dance with her. Jas¬ 
per Very in his life had been in many strange situations, 
but this was an experience unlike any he had hitherto 
passed through. He could hardly understand his thoughts 
or feelings, but in a moment he resolved on a desperate 
experiment. He arose as gracefully as he could, with 
many emotions crowding upon his mind. Stella with 
much grace moved to his right side. Jasper grasped her 
right hand with his left hand, while she leaned her left 
arm on his right arm. In this position they walked on 
the floor. 

The whole company seemed pleased at this act of po¬ 
liteness in a young lady shown to a stranger. The color¬ 
ed musician began to put his fiddle in the best order. 
Jasper here asked the fiddler to hold a minute, and, ad¬ 
dressing the company, said: “Friends, for several years 
I have not undertaken any matter of importance without 
first asking the blessing of God upon it, and I desire now 
to ask God’s blessing upon this beautiful young lady, who 


58 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


has shown such an act of politeness to a total stranger, 
and upon the whole company.’’ 

Here he grasped the young lady’s hand tightly and 
said: “Let us all kneel down and pray.” With this he' 
dropped upon his knees, and began praying with all the 
power he possessed. Stella tried to get loose from him, 
but he held her tightly. 

This unexpected act threw the whole company into ex¬ 
citement and disorder. Stella seized by an emotion which 
she could not control, fell upon her knees. Some of the 
dancers kneeled, some stood, some sat still with curious 
looks upon their faces, while others fled as in terror. The 
fiddler ran off into the kitchen saying: “Lord a marcy, 
what de matter. What’s dat mean? Prayin’ in a dance 
hall! Dis beats anyting dis niggar ever saw.” 

Jasper Very continued to pray with loud voice and 
great unction. Some soon began weeping softly, others 
cried out aloud in their deep feeling, and some asked God 
for mercy. After a while Jasper arose from his knees and 
commenced an exhortation, after which he sang a hymn. 

Stella Nebeker was so affected by the service and by 
the deep convictions of her heart that she remained for 
a long time prostrate on the floor, crying earnestly for 
pardon. This strange meeting continued nearly all 
night; and when it was ended, fifteen of those dancers 
had obtained pardon for their sins. Stella was one of 
them, George LeMonde was another and the tavern keep¬ 
er was a third. From this dance room a great revival 
spread throughout that part of the country. 


CHAPTER IX. 


Wanted, a Mission School. 

T ET US follow Miss Viola LeMonde and Miss Henrietta 
Harvey in their effort to organize a Sunday School 
among the “Poor Whites.” 

It was a beautiful day in September when the two 
young ladies seated in the phaeton drawn by Velos and 
Dolly and driven by faithful Mose made their way into 
the hill country. Their object was to visit as many fam¬ 
ilies in a remote section as possible, and try to get their 
consent to join the proposed school. 

After riding a number of miles they came to the family 
of Mart Spink. The two-room cabin in which they lived 
had the distinction of being built of hewn logs. It also 
had a “lean-to,” or low ell, attached to the larger part. 

Fortunately they found the “old man,” Mart Spink, at 
home. He seemed surprised to behold such a fine turn¬ 
out stop at his door, but showed a native gallantry as he 
came to the carriage. 

“Howdy, ladies, Use glad to see you. Won’t you ’light, 
and walk into de house?” 

“Thank you,” replied Viola. “My name is Viola Le 
Monde, and this is my friend. Miss Henrietta Harvey. 
We have come to consult you on some important busi¬ 
ness, and shall be glad to step into your cottage.” 

With this remark they both dismounted from the phae¬ 
ton, and passed into the house. 

59 


60 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


Here they found the whole family, and Mr. Spink in¬ 
troduced them in order to the ladies—his wife, Lucinda, 
his oldest daughter, Susanna, then Elmira, Robert and 
Jonathan. 

Mart Spink invited the ladies to be seated, and they 
sat down on splint-bottom chairs. 

Viola LeMonde opened the business in hand: “Mr. 
Spink, some of us living in the bottoms, knowing that you 
dwell so far away from any church that you and your 
neighbors cannot well attend public religious services, 
have decided to start a Sunday School in this locality, if 
we can find a suitable place, and if the people are willing 
to come to it. 

“Not long ago Rev. John Larkin, whom perhaps you 
have seen, suggested your house as the best place in these 
hills in which to begin a school. What do you say to the 
proposition?’’ 

Mart Spink replied: “Well, I was born in Nashville, 
Tennessee, and lived thar with my parents till I was eight 
years old. I went to school thar and learned how to read 
and write a little. I also went to church and Sunday 
School some. 

“Then they took up land here in de backwoods, and 
since that time I have had mighty little chance to larn 
out of books and to go to meetin’. 

“Yes, I would be rale glad to have you start a school in 
my house, if Lucinda is willin’. What do you say, wife?” 

Lucinda: “Let us have de school by all means; de 
sooner de better. I want it for your sake, Mart, and 
mine, but specially for our boys and girls.” 

So the consent was given and the matter settled. 

Susanna Spink, the oldest child, sat opposite Viola Le 
Monde during the conversation. She was fourteen years 


WANTED, A MISSION SCHOOL 


61 


old, and was of such striking beauty that both the visit¬ 
ors were impressed by it. Her chief attraction was her 
eyes. Once seen they could never be forgotten. The 
eyebrows were dark and of medium size. The lashes were 
black and long. Her eyes were large, clear, deep blue in 
color. One could look down into their wondrous depths 
and imagine one could see the very soul of the child. 

Susanna was all attention during the talk about the 
school. She spoke no word, but the look of her eyes 
spoke volumes to Viola. She knew that the child was in¬ 
tensely interested in the project. That hour by an in¬ 
visible and mysterious power the souls of the woman and 
child were welded together into a union of friendship and 
devotion which death itself could not part. Neither sus¬ 
pected at this time what a test of this devotion was to 
appear in the future. 

Highly pleased with the success of their first visit the 
ladies entered the carriage, and Viola directed Mose to 
drive to the home of the Wiles family. Arriving there 
they were greeted by the furious barking of a pack of 
dogs and by the staring looks of some of the children. 
Mrs. Wiles was in the front yard hanging out some faded 
and frayed clothing on the line. 

We must give the names of this interesting family. 
Those at home were Mrs. Deborah Wiles and her children 
Ephraim, Priscilla, Martha, and Ruth. The father, Simon, 
was absent, and also his precious son, Sam, whose ac¬ 
quaintance we have already made. The remaining son, 
Reuben, was visiting a near neighbor about three miles 
distant. However much of original depravity existed in 
this family the parents were determined that they should 
be fortified with biblical names. 

Mrs. Wiles showed small courtesy to the strangers, for 
she did not call off the dogs or speak to the visitors till 


62 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


she had hung out to dry the last remaining piece of wash¬ 
ing. 

Then she turned to the carriage, and inquired of the la¬ 
dies what they wanted. Viola and Henrietta without 
any invitation stepped down from the vehicle, and made 
known their mission. 

Mrs. "Wiles expressed herself unfavorable to the idea. 
She said they were gittin’ along well enough without any 
church meeting, and they did not want any of de high- 
toned people from de bottoms to come up there, putting- 
on airs, treating them as ignorant, and no ’count white 
trash, and making fun of their farms and houses. 

But different words sprang from the lips of Ephraim 
and Priscilla. 

Ephraim, the boy who a few years before had dis¬ 
covered Wind Cave, now grown to a good sized youth, 
said: “You are wrong, ma. Most of us around here are 
a low down set without books or religion. If these ladies 
are willin’ to spend their time to come all this way and 
teach us lamin’ and de Bible, I say we ought to thank 
them, and help them to start de school.” 

Priscilla said she agreed with her brother and thought 
it was time they “were gittin’ out of their pore way of 
livin’,” and she would be glad “to jine de school” if her 
mother would let her. , 

Mrs. Wiles gave a cold consent, and the carriage drove 
away, the ladies thankful that they had secured at least 
two more advocates of their scheme. 

Mose spoke to his mettled steeds and soon they were 
drawing the carriage over an unfrequented road through 
a deep forest to the cabin of Harrop Sneath. He and his 
house were typical of the poorest of the “poor whites.” 
His cabin consisted of one room, about fourteen feet square, 


WANTED, A MISSION SCHOOL 


63 


with one door and no windows. It was made of unhewn 
logs plastered with clay. The only daylight which en¬ 
tered the cabin came through the door when open and 
down the chimney. On the inside stood a bedstead made 
of poles stuck between the logs of the angle, the outside 
corner supported by a crotched stick. The table was a 
huge hewn log, standing on four pegs. A log bench or 
two took the place of chairs. The cooking utensils con¬ 
sisted of an iron pot, which hung in the big chimney, a 
kettle and skillet and a few pewter and tin dishes. The 
loft was the sleeping place of most of the children. It 
was reached by a ladder of wooden pins driven into the 
logs. 

Harrop Sneath was too lazy and shiftless to work much. 
He cultivated in a careless way a small piece of cleared 
ground around his cabin on which he raised a little Indian 
corn. The meat for his family was provided by his rifle, 
for the woods abounded in game—deer, wild turkeys, etc. 

It was in such a cabin that Abraham Lincoln was born 
in another part of Kentucky about this time. 

When Viola and Henrietta entered the clearing Sneath 
was sitting in the sun on a log bench in front of his cabin. 
He was a man in middle life and like most of the hillside 
settlers was the father of several children. 

The young ladies addressed him pleasantly, and asked 
after his family and his crops. 

He replied, that “de old woman and de kids war right 
peart; that de crops were most a dead failure because of 
de dry spell.” He “ flowed a dry spell war mighty bad for 
crops on hillside farms.” In this he was quite right. 

By this time the “old woman” and some of the kids 
had come into the yard. Among them was Jemima 
Sneath, the oldest daughter. She was apparently about 


64 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


twenty years of age, and was a large, healthy young 
woman. 

Henrietta Harvey was the speaker this time, and in a 
clear and emphatic manner made their mission known. 
She told them about the school, what a blessiig it would 
be to the community, the families and each one. It would 
improve their minds, help to remove the evils which all 
knew existed in the hills, help to put the farmers on their 
feet by showing them how to raise better crops. 

Trying to awaken a greater interest in the father she 
said: “Mr. Sneath, when you are not working on your 
place or hunting, how do you pass the time?” 

He answered wdth a slow' drawl: “Well, most ginerally 
I sot on de bench in shade in summer and in de sun in 
winter. Sometimes I sot and think, and sometimes I jest 
sot.” 

Such a man they felt it difficult to arouse, but when 
Viola added her invitations and arguments to those of her 
friend, poor Sneath awoke enough to the situation to hold 
his head up higher and widen his shoulders a trifle. 

The one most interested was Jemima, the oldest daugh¬ 
ter. She promised to attend the first meeting and to be¬ 
come a member of the school. 

Viola now directed Mose to drive them still farther 
through the woods to the home of Zibe Turner, the mon¬ 
ster dwarf. They would not have dared to beard this 
lion in his den, but knowdng he had left the county for the 
time being, they wished, if possible, to interest his mother 
and sister in the school. 

As they drew up to the house the dwarf's mother stood 
in the doorway, her daughter looking over her shoulder. 
The mother might have been a twin sister of Sycorax, the 
dam of Caliban. She was tall and slim, dressed in a 


WANTED, A MISSION SCHOOL 


66 


coarse, hand-woven dress. Her long, scant hair fell down 
over her shoulders. Her face was that of a hag. Her 
few teeth were stained yellow with tobacco. 

As soon as Viola spoke of the school, this vixen, raising 
her right arm to its greatest height and clenching her 
hand, broke out in wild vituperation: 

‘‘What do de like of ye, cornin’ into our hills in yer hue 
carriage to see how pore we air and to look down on usV 
Woud you uns larn us to be good in yer school? We uns 
air as good as you uns even if we don’t live in big houses 
and drive fast hosses. Away with you! Me and mine 
will have nuthin’ to do with yer mission.” 

In a similar vein she continued to pour out a volley of 
loud and abusive words, interlarding them with such 
oaths and curses as would have surprised a Billinsgate 
fishwoman. 

Viola tried for a brief time to reason with her, and pre¬ 
sent their plea for the mission school, but, finding it was 
useless to remain longer, told Mose to drive away. When 
they had reached the shelter of the woods the slave said: 
“Ah neber hurd a deck ban’ on de ribber cuss and swear 
lak dat po’ white woman.” 

Still these noble ladies, inspired with a high resolve to 
help the lowly, undismayed continued their work. In the 
course of two or three days a sufficient number of per¬ 
sons had agreed to attend the school to warrant its being 
opened with much promise. 


CHAPTER X. 


The Mission School Established. 

T HE TIME set for beginning the mission school was 
the first Sunday in October. The place, Mart Spink’s 
sitting room. 

Mr. Spink had added to the seating capacity of his 
cabin by taking some long slabs and with an auger drill¬ 
ing holes in their round sides. Into these holes he drove 
wooden pegs, and thus provided serviceable benches with¬ 
out backs. These together with his other benches and 
his chairs gave sufficient seating accommodation for those 
who came. 

It was a motley but interesting crowd that assembled in 
the sitting-room at two o’clock that Sunday afternoon. 
Of course the Spinks were there, and some members of 
the Wiles and Sneath families were present, and others 
from different homes in that section. Fourteen girls, ten 
boys and a few adults had come to the meeting. Besides 
these there were the preacher, John Larkin, Viola and 
George LeMonde, Henrietta Harvey, and Stella Nebeker 
in attendance. Jasper Very wished much to be present, 
but a preaching engagement kept him away. 

The children were dressed somewhat better than on 
week days but at that their clothing was nothing to boast 
of. The girls were shy and ill at ease, the boys half shy 
and half bold. 


66 


THE MISSION SCHOOL ESTABLISHED 67 


John Larkin called the school to order, and made a few 
remarks. 

“Dear friends, we are met here today to worship God 
and to study his Holy Word. I am sure you want me in 
your behalf to thank the ladies who visited your homes 
and invited you to help in starting this school, and to 
thank Mr. Spink and family who have so kindly opened 
their house for our meetings. Miss Viola LeMonde has 
had some hymn books placed on the benches, and she will 
lead us in song.” 

Viola knew that most of those present were not ac¬ 
quainted with a single religious hymn, but she thought 
the older ones might be able to sing some of the old fa¬ 
vorites of the church. So she led them in singing: 

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me,” and “All hail the power 
of Jesus’ name.” 

Those who had come to help in the school carried the 
tunes along very well, and Viola was surprised and pleas¬ 
ed to hear some of the farmers and their wives join in 
singing these sweet songs of Zion. 

Then Viola sang as a solo a beautiful and appropriate 
* ‘Children’s Hymn,” containing these words. 

“Hosanna! be the children’s song, 

To Christ, the children’s King; 

His praise, to whom our souls belong, 

Let all the children sing. 

Hosanna! sound from hill to hill, 

And spread from plain to plain, 

While louder, sweeter, clearer still, 

Woods echo to the strain.” 

Then John Larkin said: “Let us pray.” He closed 
his eyes, and began an earnest supplication at the throne 


68 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


of grace. But it might have been better for him and the 
school, if he had kept his eyes open while he offered his 
petition, and thus obeyed the Bible command: “Watch 
and pray.” When he closed his eyes the little imps in 
divers parts of the room saw their chance for mischief, 
and were quick to embrace it. 

A Sneath boy put his straw hat on the head of a boy 
next him, and then knocked it off with no gentle blow. 
This angered the other youngster and he hit back with 
his clenched fist. So they had it back and forth, to the 
amusement of all the chaps around them. Another boy 
got possession of a pin—a rather scarce article in that 
neighborhood—and at one of the most fervent parts of 
the preacher’s prayer stuck it into the lad sitting in front 
of him. The punctured youth gave a yell which could 
not be construed into an Amen on account of the petition. 
It raised the lad off his seat, and made him jump forward 
with an impetus which was both amusing and pathetic. 
The hurt of the pin seemed to swallow up every feeling 
save that of distress, and he “boo-hooed” aloud. 

Such proceedings made Brother Larkin bring his 
prayer to an abrupt conclusion, and Viola LeMonde hur¬ 
ried to the sobbing child, and tried to comfort him. 

After the devotions the school was divided into classes. 
John Larkin took the adults of both sexes; Viola Le¬ 
Monde, the larger girls; Henrietta Harvey, the smaller; 
George LeMonde, the older boys; and Stella Nebeker, the 
younger. 

These teachers that day occupied places of responsibil¬ 
ity which taxed every particle of their skill, ingenuity, 
tact, patience and forbearance. Many of those sitting 
around them could not read or write a word. So first 
they had to be taught words and sentences. Their knowl- 


THE MISSION SCHOOL ESTABLISHED 69 


edge of the Bible was pitifully small. Yet they possessed 
the redeeming feature of wanting to learn, and most of 
them showed an eager desire to improve their minds. 

I .Let us, as unbidden guests, in spirit sit down in Viola 
LeMonde’s class and listen to what is said. These girls’ 
minds were bright but undeveloped. It was their teach¬ 
ers’ object to educate—lead out—her pupils’ intellects 
into the broad fields of Scriptural knowledge. 

“Girls,” said Viola, “we are going to study the book, 
copies of which we are holding in our hands. It is called 
the Bible. Let me ask some questions about it, and you 
try to answer them.” 

“Have you seen the Bible before today?” 

Susanna Spink replied: “I seed one onct, when I went 
to a camp meetin’ near Honey Crick. A man read out of 
a book he called de Bible, and then he talked and talked 
a long, long time.” 

“The Bible tells us a lot about many good men and 
women. Perhaps you have heard of some of these. Who 
was Moses?” 

“Was he nigger Mose’s dad?” asked one of the girls. 

“No, he lived many years ago, and was a great leader 
of the Hebrew people. Did you ever hear of David?” 

Profound silence. 

“He was a mighty king of the Jews, and also a man 
who wrote many beautiful songs. One of his songs mil¬ 
lions of children know. It begins: ‘The Lord is my 
shepherd; I shall not want.’ Have any of' you ever 
heard it?” 

One or two raised their hands indicating they had 
heard it. 

“Let us turn to it, the twenty-third psalm, and we shall 
read it together.” 


70 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


This they did, and Viola said: “I want you children to 
learn this psalm by heart and each one say it to me next 
Sunday. Will you do it?” 

Every hand was raised in consent. 

“The Bible is divided into two parts. Can any one 
tell me what they are ? ’ ’ 

“Yes’m, de front an’ de back.” 

“They are called the Old Testament and the New Tes¬ 
tament. The Old Testament tells of God’s dealings with 
his chosen people the Hebrews (or Jews). It also points 
to the coming of God’s Son into the world.” 

“The New Testament tells how God’s Son Jesus Christ 
came upon earth to be the Friend of little children and 
all people; how he lived a good life, always helping those 
around him; how wicked men at last put him to death, 
and his friends buried him. But the grave could not 
hold him, and on the third day he arose from it, and soon 
went up to heaven. The day of his birth is called Christ¬ 
mas. Have you heard of it ? ” 

“Yes, teacher, we have all heard something about 
Christmas.” 

“Well, we’ll learn more about it, for it is a sweet story, 
and next Christmas the mission school will have a fine 
time, with songs, and pieces to speak,and giving of pres¬ 
ents. I hope my girls will take part in this glad time.” 

Thus the minutes sped by while in simple words Viola 
tried to impart some Bible truths to her willing scholars. 

After closing exercises the school was dismissed. 

The teachers remained a while to compare notes. 
George LeMonde reported having had an interesting time 
with his boys. He said he spoke to them about the sin of 
making moonshine whisky, and tried to set them against 
the practice. He was surprised at the answer that was 


THE MISSION SCHOOL ESTABLISHED 71 


made to one of his questions: “If any one were to ask 
you to take a drink of moonshine whisky, what would 
you say?” 

“Thank you,” piped up a small boy. 

The first session of the Mission Sunday School was con¬ 
sidered a success and those responsible for it were en¬ 
couraged to continue the work. 

Some change in the teaching force was necessary, for 
John Larkin’s duties as preacher would not permit him 
to serve as a permanent teacher. 

It is a pleasure to say that this school increased in num¬ 
bers and influence, and not only in its Sunday meeting, 
but also in its social and educational work in the com¬ 
munity, became a strong agent to uplift the surrounding 
hill people in every way. 


CHAPTER XI. 


1 

< 

I 

A Kentucky Feud. 

« 

Costello Nebeker after bis conversion in bis dance ball 
under tbe ministry of Jasper Very continued to keep his 
tavern, but discarded tbe sale and use of whisky upon his 
premises. He became known as tbe one hotel keeper in 
all that region who did not furnish his customers strong 
liquors. However, this action did not ruin his business; 
for, while some of his patrons left him, others took their 
places, and he was able still to supply all proper needs of 
the traveling public. 

The winter had set in, and a great change was visible 
in the landscape. The splendid forest trees had lost their 
leaves, and their giant limbs were bare in the winter sun¬ 
shine. A light snow covered the ground, and in it could 
be seen the tracks of rabbit, squirrel, coon, opossum, and 
occasionally a wild cat. In the distance the loud baying 
of hounds told that some creatures of the wild were being 
pursued by their relentless enemies. 

Nature was at rest, and also the pioneer. His crops 
of corn, hay, wheat, tobacco, and vegetables were all gath¬ 
ered and safely placed in barns and storehouses. Little 
was to be done during the short winter day but to attend 
to the stock, to do the 44 chores ’ 9 about the house, and per¬ 
haps to haul wood—backlogs and foresticks—to replenish 
the ravenous fire in the great fireplace. 

72 


A KENTUCKY FEUD 


73 


But what was a time of rest to the Kentucky farmer 
was a season of special'activity to the pioneer preacher. 
It was usually in winter that “protracted meetings” were 
held. Next to camp meetings, they were the great relig¬ 
ious events of the year. The old saints anticipated with 
keen relish the sermons, songs, prayers, exhortations, and 
altar services. The young people were scarcely less in¬ 
terested, but from mixed motives—partly religious and 
partly social. Ever since Adam courted Eve under 
Eden’s trees God’s woods have been places for lovers to 
woo in, and one of the best things connected with the 
“protracted meeting” was the occasion it made of bring¬ 
ing young people into one another’s society and starting 
friendships which ripened into love and matrimony. 

Through the influence of Costello Nebeker a small 
church was built some distance from his house in the no¬ 
ble forest. It was composed of logs cut smooth with axes 
on two opposite sides. These logs were placed one above 
the other, and the chinks between were closed up with 
mortar made of clay and water. The roof was of heavy 
beams upon which were nailed coarse clapboards. The 
building could boast of two small windows and a single 
door. The inside arrangements were as simple as the 
outside. A common wooden desk answered as a pulpit, 
and instead of pews wooden benches were placed in front 
of the stand. A large cast-iron stove, placed near the 
center of the room, gave heat when the weather was cold. 
The building was called the “Bethlehem Church.” 

The “protracted meeting” -was appointed to begin ear¬ 
ly in January. The preachers who were to conduct it 
were Jasper Very, John Larkin, and Ezra Thompson, an 
old minister, grizzled and toughened by time and expos¬ 
ure. 


74 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


This history has to do with the Sunday evening service 
which Jasper Very was to conduct. It was a beautiful 
winter evening. The orb of day had scarcely descended 
behind the unbroken line of forest trees in the west ere’ 
the full moon appeared in the east, rising in majesty 
through the trees. The silvery globe stretched from the' 
base almost to the tops of the trees. Slowly and serenely, 
she climbed on her upward way, the tree tops now mark¬ 
ing the line of her diameter; then in a few minutes she 
was free from their obstruction and hung above the earth 
a great, shining ball, sending upon river, forest, plain, 
and plantation a light so full and soft that one standing 
in it would become charmed by her magical rays. 

In the falling darkness it was easy to walk or ride to 
the evening appointment. Because of the distance most 
of the people rode on horseback. When they had all as¬ 
sembled, the sight was one to remember. Horses were 
hitched everywhere to racks which had been placed near 
the church, to branches of trees, and to small saplings. 

Before the services began many of the people had gath¬ 
ered inside the church, which was illuminated with a half 
dozen tallow candles that tried their best to burn, but 
seemed discouraged by the attempt. Outside men col¬ 
lected in groups and talked in low, earnest tones. Do you 
ask what was the subject of their conversation? It was 
about the sermon to be preached that night by Jasper 
Very. 

A few days before a family feud in this neighborhood 
had broken out afresh. It was the noted feud between 
the Wiles and Barker families. This estrangement had 
occurred a quarter of a century before. It began by 
some cattle of a former Wiles getting into the field of a 
settler named Barker. Barker told Wiles to keep his 


A KENTUCKY FEUD 


75 


live stock out of his land, and Wiles replied by demanding 
that Barker should repair his rail fences and mind his 
gates. Wiles was careless about his cattle and Barker 
about his fences. So one night a lot of Wiles’ cattle got 
into a fine field of growing corn belonging to Barker, and 
ate as long as they could chew the juicy food and tramp¬ 
led down the green stalks with perfect indifference as to 
ownership. Early the next morning Barker saw the dev¬ 
astation and the causes thereof. He walked over to 
Wiles’ plantation, and the two men quarreled, fought, 
and almost killed each other. 

This was the beginning of that celebrated Wiles-Barker 
feud which has soiled the annals of that part of Ken¬ 
tucky. Its course was marked by murders, assassinations, 
wounds, burning of buildings, and every injury which 
cunning could devise and hate execute. 

For a full year before this winter, by an unspoken 
agreement, the two factions had ceased to quarrel. Vio¬ 
lence had exhausted istelf, for the worst of men cannot 
give loose rein to their passions all the time. But, though 
the wild beast of hatred and revenge was quiet, he was 
neither dead nor changed into a lamb; he was really nurs¬ 
ing and strengthening his powers for more savage at¬ 
tacks. The occasion which made him crouch, show his 
teeth, and leap forward with sudden and terrible fury 
was a barn-raising on a settler’s farm not far from Cos¬ 
tello’s tavern. The Wiles and Barker families were both 
well represented by young and middle-aged men. Ac¬ 
cording to the custom of the time, whisky was freely ten¬ 
dered to the workers and as freely received. 

All went well until late in the afternoon when the 
framework of the barn had been put in place. The settlers 


76 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


had drunk unusual quantities of their favorite beverage, 
and were ready for frolic or fight. Just then Alan Bark¬ 
er, a scion of the noted family, belonging to that branch 
living in Pigeon Creek, began expatiating on the charms, 
graces and virtues of a fair lassie bearing the euphonious 
and patriotic name of America Virginia Stubbins, and 
closed his eulogy by saying she was “de sweetest, pret¬ 
tiest, best and likeliest gal in all Kentucky and he could 
“whip any man in de crowd who dared to deny it.” 
Young “Buck” Wiles took up the dare, partly because 
he despised the whole Barker crew, partly because he had 
a tender feeling toward the same lass, and was therefore 
jealous of Alan Barker, but mostly because whisky had 
fired his brain. So he discounted Alan Barker’s fervid 
descriptions, and averred that the same America Virginia 
Stubbins possessed a homely face and little sense. 

This was the spark which exploded the magazine. 
Alan Barker, stung to anger and madness, sprang upon 
“Buck” Wiles, and the two men clenched in a desperate 
struggle. However, it was not the way of the times to 
confine the settling of disputes to the “manly art” of 
bare fists. There was a quicker method, and sooner than 
we can write it the men having become separated in their 
wrestling, Alan Barker whipped out a pistol and shot 
Wiles down. Then ensued an encounter horrible to relate. 
The members of each family entered at once into the fight. 
Many shots were exchanged; and after a few minutes, 
when the fighting was over, either from lack of ammuni¬ 
tion, or because, Indian fashion, those who were not 
wounded had hidden behind the great trees to fight from 
under cover, the sad results were apparent. Three of the 
Barker tribe and two of the Wiles lay dead upon the 
ground, while five of the latter and four of the former 


A KENTUCKY FEUD 


77 


were lying in different positions, some slightly, others 
desperately, wounded. 

Thus the old feud was renewed, the old score opened, 
and the waters of malice, revenge and hate which had been 
accumulating for months broke forth afresh with devas¬ 
tating effect. Soon the news was heard in all the sur¬ 
rounding hills and valleys. It stirred the dull and un¬ 
trained minds in many a mountain cabin; it was discus¬ 
sed between drinks in rough taverns. Somehow the story 
sounded through the green Kentucky woods until its 
echoes appeared in the daily papers of Cincinnati, Phila¬ 
delphia and New York. 

Jasper Very declared he would make this battle be¬ 
tween families the subject of his sermon on Sunday even¬ 
ing, and it was this announcement which threw the neigh¬ 
borhood into such a high state of excitement and caused a 
crowd to attend the meeting which packed the small 
meeting-house to suffocation and, despite the cold weath¬ 
er, caused it to overflow into the surrounding yard. 

Sam Wiles was there, and his impish shadow, Zibe 
Turner, and Long Tom, and the rest of his cronies. Sam 
Wiles ’ family was a part of that large Wiles faction 
which warred with the Barkers, but Sam was not present 
at the barn-raising. He was only fourth cousin to the 
Wiles men who were killed, but felt himself bound with 
the rest of his kin to avenge their death. Hence he was 
intensely interested to know how the preacher would 
treat his subject. On account of the crowd he sat a little 
within the doorway, while the monster dwarf contented 
himself with a position just outside, where his ghoulish 
and malignant face was lighted up by candle rays and 
moonbeams combined. 


78 


THE KENTUCKY RAN GEE 


Jasper Very took for his text, “Am I my brother’s 
keeper?” Thus he began: “Hearers and friends, it is a 
sad fact that the first man born into the world, Cain, was 
a murderer, and the second man born of woman was 
murdered. Cain killed his brother Abel. Ever since 
that day this earth has been reddened with human blood. 
It has defiled every mountain and stained every plain, it 
has polluted the waters of every lake and river, and has 
reddened the very ocean. Murder’s bloody hand, nerved 
by all the worst passions of man, has struck down, not 
only the guilty, but also the innocent, the weak and help¬ 
less. It is a perversion of the Creator’s intention regard¬ 
ing mankind. He made men to dwell in peace and hap¬ 
piness. He put the solitary in families that each member 
might contribute to the well-being of the whole. Every 
man is his brother’s keeper. He is expected to do him 
good and not harm. If my brother is weak, I must try to 
be his strength. If he is in sorrow, I must comfort him; 
if needy, help him with my substance; if sick, I must min¬ 
ister unto him. By so doing I shall receive both the ap¬ 
proval of my conscience, and the Master’s reward: ‘Well 
done, good and faihtful servant.’ 

“Back of the act of murder is its motive. It is formed 
in the mind before it is committed by the hand. It in¬ 
variably springs from the baser passions of man—hate, 
malice, jealousy, revenge. Our Bible traces it to its seat. 
It declares: ‘Whosoever hateth his brother is a murder¬ 
er : and ye know that no murderer hath eternal life abid¬ 
ing in him.’ It was this bad feeling of hate which made 
Cain kill his brother Abel.” 

The preacher then passed on to say: “You all know 
that different parts of our beautiful State of Kentucky 
have been disgraced by family feuds which have resulted 


A KENTUCKY FEUD 


79 

in many crimes against God and man, including murder. 
In our own neighborhood at this time of the year when 
we should be making fresh resolutions of love to God and 
our fellows, young men have shot one another down in a 
useless quarrel, a number of families are mourning the 
loss of sons and brothers, and other men are made cripples 
for life by ugly wounds.’’ 

Then, raising his voice until it could be heard by the 
remotest lounger at the horserails he thundered: “What 
was the cause of this recent killing, and of the broils, 
fights, and contentions in our midst? Whisky. This is 
the curse of Kentucky. It is the demon which fires the 
blood and pulls the trigger. In days when the red men 
roamed these forests and hunted abundant game so many 
battles were fought among themselves that this fair land 
received that dreadful name, ‘The Dark and Bloody 
Ground,’ and now you are doing all in your power to per¬ 
petuate this name. You in this audience who make or 
sell liquor, either legally or illegally, ‘have made a cove¬ 
nant with death, and with hell are at agreement.’ How 
can you escape the wrath of God? The voice of these slain 
men’s blood cries unto heaven from the ground. The 
gray hairs of their parents will go down in sorrow to the 
grave for them.” 

His mood and voice then changed, and in softer tones he 
pleaded with them to turn from the evil of their ways and 
live. He assured them that no drunkard nor drunkard- 
maker could inherit the kingdom of God, that a sure woe 
would rest upon him who putteth the bottle to his neigh¬ 
bor’s lips, and that no good could finally come out of this 
bad business. He told them that they could not turn from 
their evil ways in their own strength; but God had laid 
strength upon One who was mighty to save and strong to 


80 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


deliver from every weakness and temptation, even his only 
begotten Son, Jesus Christ. 

His eyes filled with tears and his voice shook with emo¬ 
tion as he gave an invitation to all to forsake their sins 
and return unto God in that sweetest welcome to repent 
that human ears have heard: “Come unto me, all ye that 
labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” 

Almost overcome by his feelings, Jasper Very sat down, 
but instantly John Larkin arose and gave out that com¬ 
forting invitation hymn: 

‘ ‘ Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, 

Weak and wounded, sick and sore; 

Jesus ready stands to save you, 

Full of pity, love, and power. 

He is able, 

He is willing, doubt no more.” 

He asked all those who wanted to repent of their sms 
and to seek pardon and peace to come forward to the altar 
while the congregation stood and sang that hymn. 

The result was astonishing. In spite of the crowded 
condition of the room men and women pushed their way 
to the wooden benches called an “altar,” and with tears 
and groans sought forgiveness. Decisions were made 
that night as lasting as eternity. Many a hardened back- 
woods sinner there forever forsook his evil ways and be¬ 
came an order-loving and respectable citizen, helping to 
form that civilization of which the Kentucky of today is 
so proud. Several moonshiners were convicted of the 
iniquity of their business, and gave up illicit distilling 
and their other bad practices. Among the rest was Long 
Tom. He sought the Lord with the simplicity of a little 


A KENTUCKY FEUD 


81 


child. As he made no reservations, but at once confessed 
all his evil deeds, and was both wise and simple enough to 
accept Christ at his own terms of full surrender and child¬ 
like faith, he soon found pardon and peace. While he 
bowed at the altar the people sang “ Jesus Lover of My 
Soul,” and its sentiments comforted the sobbing man. 
The clearest voice which led in this hymn was that of 
Viola LeMonde. 

At a testimony meeting a short time after he told of his 
experience: 11 Friends, I war a mighty ignorant feller 
when I come for’ard to that mourner’s bench. I had not 
said a prayer for twenty years. I did not know how to 
begin. Then I thought of a prayer my mother larned me 
when I war a little chap. So I began saying, ‘Our Father, 
who art in heaven,’ and before I got through I war 
saved.” 

But while some were convicted of the error of their 
ways at that meeting, others were hardened; for such a 
meeting is either a savior of life unto life, or a savior of 
death unto death. Sam Wiles sat, as we have said, near 
the open door. During the first part of the discourse he 
followed the preacher closely and calmly; but when Jas¬ 
per Very entered upon his philippic against the moon¬ 
shiners in particular, an awful struggle began in Wiles’ 
heart. God’s Spirit acted strongly upon him, convincing 
his judgment that all the preacher said was true, that the 
whole business was bad from beginning to end, and that 
now, after he had such proofs among his own kin that 
death followed in its wake, he should forever abandon it. 
For a while it seemed as though his proud heart would 
yield, but there were tremendous influences on the other 
side. There was the love of his free and easy life which 
must be put in the scale. If he changed about he must 


82 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


endure the scoffs and reproaches of his former compan¬ 
ions. Added to these was the awful tug of the habits and 
inclinations of his present life, and beyond all this was 
the personal temptation of the evil one whispering in his 
soul not to yield. If he did yield, said the tempter, he 
would soon fall away, and that would be worse than not to 
start at all. 

Thus the crucial battle of his life was fought while 
Wiles sat in that little church. Such a struggle comes 
into many a life. Angels must look upon it with the 
deepest interest and attention. The crisis may arrive at 
church or at home, on the high sea or on the land, in a 
storied mansion or in a little cottage, at the midnight 
hour or in the open day—the place or time counts for 
little, but the result is as wide as eternity. 

This hour was propitious for Sam Wiles. A proper 
choice would have revolutionized his character, would 
have gladdened the angels in heaven, and written his 
name deep in the “Book of Life.” But alas! alas! before 
the sermon was ended he had resisted God’s Holy Spirit, 
and, instead of one devil, seven devils had entered into 
his soul. A hard expression spread over his face, his 
eyes flashed with a dangerous fire, and he cast a look of 
defiance and contempt upon the speaker that (so subtle, 
strong, and swift are the laws of mind) Very, seeing it, 
would have been confused and perhaps overcome in his 
discourse if the shield of Almighty God had not protect¬ 
ed him. 

As for Zibe Turner, the monster dwarf, the services 
had no more effect for good upon him than a strong fort¬ 
ress would be affected by shooting white beans at it. 
When his favorite business, illicit distilling, was denounc¬ 
ed by Very, the dwarf’s wrath grew so hot that he could 


A KENTUCKY FEUD 


83 


not refrain from muttering under his breath: “I wish I 
could drown you uns and all yer pious hypercrits in whis¬ 
ky. Dat’s my holt.” 

| As the last hymn was being sung Sam Wiles left the 
church and walked out into the moonlight. He was join¬ 
ed by Turner and a few more of the clan. For a few 
minutes they held a whispered conversation, and then 
separated. 

When the meeting broke up a half hour later, it was 
found that the girths on the horses belonging to the 
preachers, the Costello family and others had been cut 
and destroyed. Also the traces of Judge LeMonde’s 
harness. 


CHAPTER XH. 


The Shameful Plot. 



HE MOONLIGHT showed a look of blank amazement 


and concern upon the faces of the victims of this 
dastardly trick, especially the women; but John Larkin's 
unfailing good temper and witty sayings relieved the sit¬ 
uation. “There is no use crying over spilled milk," said 
he, “ and I am sure, as Poor Richard remarks, ‘God helps 
them that help themselves.’ So we must find some 
way to remedy this trouble, for we cannot stand here 
gazing into the moon's face all night, and the distance to 
our homes is too great to walk. Let us look about among 
the trees, and perhaps we can find pieces of the girths and 
harness." 

This was done, and presently several pieces were found. 
With these the traces of the carriage were repaired and 
a number of the saddles made fit for service. By some of 
the men riding double on horseback the mischief was toler¬ 
ably mended and all returned to their lodgings in safety. 

While one injury was being remedied another more se¬ 
rious was being planned. When Sam Wiles and Zibe 
Turner had cut the saddle girths and traces, they and 
three of their pals quickly mounted their horses and rode 
rapidly to Wiles’ house. Arriving there they found the 
old folks and children in bed. Being afraid to talk over 
their infamous scheme in the cabin, they betook themselves 
to the barn some distance away. In this building they 


84 


THE SHAMEFUL PLOT 


85 


lighted a tallow dip and, throwing themselves down on 
some hay to rest and warm their bodies, they at once be¬ 
gan talking of what was uppermost in their minds. 

“Now fellers,” said Wiles, “let us go over keerfully 
what we uns war sayin’ as we rode along. That cursed 
preacher made a last break with me when he fit our biz- 
ness in such an all-fired strong way and throwed insults 
on my family. I say he oughter be punished for his sass 
in the way we spoke of.” 

“Sure nuff,” broke in Turner, the monster dwarf, “tar 
and feathers and ridin’ in a rail is too good fer de likes 
of him. If he got his just dues, we oughter lay for him 
some night and pick him off as he is ridin’ hossback.” 

“We must not kill him,” said the more cautious lead¬ 
er, “for they would ’speet us at once, and we would soon 
be put in de jug (jail), if they didn’t make us stretch 
hemp without trial. But a good thick coat of tar and 
feathers will become his style of beauty fust-rate; and if 
we uns ride him on a rail, he will dance a jig with his feet 
in de air and will look more cute than ary Injun you uns 
ever see daubed with his war paint and feathers.” 

The five men laughed heartily at this remark, and 
seemed to anticipate with delight the fulfillment of their 
foul plot. 

“We owe him a good one fer capturin’ Long Tom and 
makin’ him pious and an enemy of our bizness,” said 
Bert Danks, captain of the Honey Crick band, “and I 
hope you uns won’t be sparin’ of de tar ner easy with de 
rail. Get one of them three-cornered hickory rails, and 
that’ll do the thing up brown.” 

“Whar is de best place to s’prise him?” asked Wiles. 

“I’ll tell yer,” spoke Zibe Turner, and his monkeyish 
face lit up with a smile almost diabolical and his piercing 


86 


THE KENTUCKY BANGER 


black eyes shot a keen and excited look into the group, 
“I hearn that he has an appintment next Chewsday night 
at de top of Bald Knob, and to go there from his home he 
will have to take de Pigeon Crick road, cross de crick at 
Farley’s and then branch off inter de big woods before he 
climbs de knob. Now de level place jest by de foot of de 
knob is a lonely spot, away from de big road, de trees air 
mighty high and large, and few people pass that way. I 
say let’s strip and dress him thar.” 

“Agreed!” shouted the rest in concert. 

“Bert,” spoke Wiles, “we’ll look to you to git de tar, 
and I’ll bring a pot from mammy’s kitchen to heat it in. 
I’ll also take without her knowin’ it some feathers from 
her feather bed. You, Zibe, are to furnish de rail, and 
see that you git a sharp and strong one.” 

“ ’Pend on me for dat, and if he don’t cry for marcy, 
it’ll not be my fault.” 

As a parting caution Wiles remarked: “All you fellers 
keep mum on tiiis subject, for we don’t want to miss de 
fun ner be cotched in it.” 

Now it happened that Mose Williams, Judge Le- 
Monde’s most faithful negro servant, was attending to 
an affair of his own that Sunday evening not strictly de¬ 
manded by his obligations to his master. In other words, 
he was courting a sprightly and good-looking quardoon 
girl, by name Euphemia Jackson (“Ferny” for short). 
This buxom lass was a house servant on a plantation sit¬ 
uated about five miles from Judge LeMonde’s. What 
were five miles to a lusty young negro fellow who had a 
good pair of legs, a bracing atmosphere and bright moon¬ 
light in which to exercise them, and a sweetheart at the 
journey’s end? 


THE SHAMEFUL PLOT 


87 


Mose, arrayed in his best clothes, had gone early and 
stayed late. He left the plantation happy with himself 
and all the world. For had he not that very night pop¬ 
ped the all-important question and had not Ferny given 
an answer which warmed the very depths of his darkey 
heart and made the face of nature shine with a double 
light? To shorten the distance home, as the hour was 
late and the bright moon threw some light even among 
the thick trees, he determined to take a footpath among 
the hills. This course led him close to the cabin of Simon 
Wiles, Sam Wiles’ father. He was w T alking in a zigzag 
path, now watching the moonlight as it lilted down 
through the leafy canopy, making a dim but peaceful 
light around him; now listening to the sounds which ex¬ 
ist in Kentucky forests in winter, the flight of nocturnal 
birds and moving of animals; seeing the raccoon crossing 
his track like a shadow in search of food; hearing the 
mournful hooting of owls in various directions. 

Suddenly he was startled by seeing a light shining 
through the chinks of a building. At once Mose deter¬ 
mined to discover its meaning. He had no fine-spun 
theories as to the wrong of eavesdropping. Besides, there 
might be robbers planning to steal neighbor Wiles’ horse 
or produce. So he crept up to the barn, making so little 
noise that neither the watchful dogs nor the plotting men 
heard him. 

He arrived in time to hear the conversation we have 
recorded. When he had learned all, he stealthily retrac*. 
ed his steps to the foot-path and, making a wide detour 
around the house, went on his way. While he walked he 
thus soliloquized: “Ho! Ho! dat’s yo’ game, is it? Well, 
dis niggah will try to spile yo’ purty plan. But, Mose, 
ef yo’ squeal on dem men an’ dey hears about it, dey’ll 


88 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


give yo’ wusser t’ings dan tar an’ fedders. Kain’t help 
dat; mus’ run de resk. Mas’r Very am mighty pop’lar wid 
de Jedge, and I believes dat Miss Viola am lookin’ on him 
wid more’n common feelin’s. Mose, yo’s gwine to be a 
married man one of dese days yo’self, an’ yo’ wants a 
little cabin of yo’ own; and ef yo’ hoe dis row to de end 
an’ cireumwent dese ’spiring men, p’haps Mas’r LeMonde 
gwine give yo’ de cabin an’ Miss Viola gwine put lots o’ 
nice tings in it. Dat’s de proposition; an’, Mose, yo’ got 
to keep yo’ wooly head mighty cool an’ calc’lating. 
Chewsday will soon be hyar, an’ what is done mus’ be 
done in a hurry. It’s a pity de Jedge an’ Mas’r George 
is gwine to start early to Lexinton tomorrer, so dey can’t 
’tend to de mattah; but I’ll jes inform Miss Viola of de 
situwation.” 

When the slave had reached this wise and satisfactory 
conclusion he had also reached the end of his journey, 
and with much self-complacency retired to his humble 
cot to dream of his dusky sweetheart. 

Early the next morning Mose called at the mansion to 
see Miss Viola, telling her that he had “sumpin’ of spe¬ 
cial ’portance” to make knowm. For the sake of privacy, 
she took him into the large drawing-room and, seating 
herself in that beautiful bay window overlooking the 
stately lawn and the broad cornfield now shining white 
under their coverlet of snow and farther on the lovely 
river, she beckoned him to proceed. With much earnest¬ 
ness and an air of importance he related what he had 
heard at the barn the night before. 

Mose was so absorbed in his recital that he did not no¬ 
tice the full effects of his words on his mistress. As his 
story continued, a great change came over her. Her 
breathing quickened until it came in short and labored 


THE SHAMEFUL PLOT 


89 


gasps. First a deeper color of red suffused her cheeks, 
then a crimson overspread her face and neck, which was 
soon followed by a paleness which marked her face with 
an ashen hue. How that poor heart was troubled! Now 
its violent beatings force the hot blood to face and hands 
and feet; then with the cruel news it takes into itself the 
torrid currents of blood, leaving the face and exremities 
cold and bloodless and a feeling of suffocation in the 
the lungs. By a supreme effort of will, which God has 
made sovereign over the emotions, she calmed her beat¬ 
ing heart and considered what was best to be done. 

“Mose, you are quite sure you have told me all you 
heard?” 

“Yes, Miss Viola, I is, kase de wo’ds made such a ’pres- 
sion on mah mind dat I ’members dem zackly.” 

“You are certain they selected Tuesday night for their 
wicked acts.” 

“Dey spoke of Chewsday night, and tuk it bekase 
Mas’r Very is to go dat way dat night.” 

“You can leave me now for an hour, but at eight 
o’clock come back and I will send by you a message to 
Mr. Very.” 

When the negro had left, Viola LeMonde retired to her 
own room and seating herself at her writing desk, wrote 
the following communication: 

“Mount Pisgah, January 6, 181—. 

The Rev. Jasper Very, 

Dear Mr. Very: 

Our servant, Mose Williams, has just made known to 
me a plot which some base men have devised to treat you 
with indignity and to bring the cause of religion into 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


90 

contempt. Mose was returning home late last night from 
Mr. St. Claire's plantation when, seeing a light in Simon 
Wilts' barn, he crept near and, looking through a chink 
in the wall, saw Sam Wiles, Bert Danks, Zibe Turner, and 
two other men lying on some hay. He overheard them 
planning to administer to Rev. Jasper Very a coat of tar 
and feathers and to complete the performance by riding 
him on a rail. This disgraceful act is to take place next 
Tuesday night. The spot is that dark and unfrequented 
place at the foot of Bald Knob through which you must 
pass on the way to your preaching service. 

“As ‘to be forewarned is to be forearmed/ I hasten to 
notify you of the plot, feeling sure you will adopt meas¬ 
ures to thwart it. Father and George would aid you in 
the matter but they went early this morning to Lexing¬ 
ton, and will not return till Wednesday evening. 

“I feel that I am able to do little in such an emergency 
as this; but if I can be of any help, I will most gladly en¬ 
deavor to preserve the respect of our community and to 
assist a friend. 

“No one knows of this plot except the instigators, my¬ 
self, and Mose. By him I send this note to you. 

Most sincerely yours, 

Viola LeMonde.” 

At eight o'clock Mose made his appearance, and Viola 
gave him the message, telling him to ride Velox as fast as 
possible to Mr. Nebeker’s tavern, where Mr. Very had 
spent the night, and to give it to the preacher. 

Mose was doubly willing that the news should get to 
the parson by means of the note; for if trouble came his 
way, he could swear that he did not inform Very of the 


THE SHAMEFUL PLOT 


91 


plot; and, secondly, he thought Viola would be pleased 
to help the preacher. 

Jasper Very was still at the home of the tavern keeper, 
as were also several other preachers, including the 
“square man/' John Larkin. Jasper was standing on the 
porch, and was surprised to see the colored man riding 
up fast to the house, his horse wet with sweat and steam¬ 
ing in the wintry air. 

Mose, dismounting, lifted his cap to those present, and 
said to Jasper Very: “I has a message of ’portance to 
you, sir.” With this he handed him the note, and then, 
on request of Mr. Nebeker, put Velox in the barn to cool 
off and rest. 

Jasper Very took the missive to the end of the porch 
and, breaking the seal, read it. When he had finished, his 
mobile face showed the conflicting emotions within. A 
flush of anger reddened his dark features, his lips were 
pressed close together, his eyes flashed with unwonted 
fire, and his hands involuntarily became clenched until 
the finger nails indented the palms. Soon his look soft¬ 
ened, the fire left his eyes, and they appeared as gentle 
as twin lakes in lovely Switzerland. The proud lines in 
his lips gave place to a curve like a Cupid’s bow and a 
smile lighted up his face. Looking out over the wintry 
landscape, he said to himself: “It is worth the danger of 
an attack like this to receive such a note from Viola Le 
Monde. How kind and thoughtful of her to warn me of 
the plot so quickly. I will see how best I can circumvent 
this scheme.” With these reflections he retraced his 
steps to his friends. 

In the meantime the pity which Viola LeMonde felt for 
the preacher did not tend to weaken that strange sensa¬ 
tion, born in Eden, which was tugging at her heart. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


Into a Pit (or Pitch). 

J ASPER VERY addressed Costello Nebeker, the tavern 
keeper, thus: “Brother Nebeker, I have a matter of 
importance to consider with you and a few friends. Can 
you furnish us with a private room?” 

“Certainly, Brother Very,” replied his genial host. 
“You can have the sitting room, just back of our large 
reception room.” (The dance hall had been changed 
into these two rooms.) 

In a few minutes a select company was gathered there. 
It consisted of Jasper Very, John Larkin, Ezra Thomp¬ 
son, the old, grizzled preacher, Nathaniel Grimes, a smart 
minister who formerly had been a lawyer, Costello Neb¬ 
eker, and his wife. Jasper Very read Viola LeMonde’s 
note to the group, and striking was the effect it produced. 
One cried, “The despicable villians!” another, “The vile 
sinners.” a third, “Shame on Kentucky manhood, to 
what depths can humanity sink!” For once John Larkin 
could not find a quotation from Poor Richard or any oth¬ 
er source which met the case. But soon surprise and in¬ 
dignation gave way to a cool consideration of the situa¬ 
tion and the best means of circumventing this well-laid 
plot and bringing its instigators to punishment. 

Very was the first to offer a suggestion. “Friends,” 
he said, “let us call Mose into the room and hear in de 
tail his account of what he overheard.” This was thought 

92 


INTO A PIT (OR PITCH) 93 

good advice, and accordingly Mose was invited into the 
sitting room. 

At first the cautious darky was loath to commit him¬ 
self; but when he was informed that Miss LeMonde al¬ 
ready had told the tale in substance and that all present 
would keep secret his remarks, he repeated what he had 
seen and heard with more fullness than we have written 
down. 

After Mose had been dismissed, Nathaniel Grimes, the 
lawyer-preacher, spoke in these words: “I believe I have 
a plan by which this plot can be frustrated. It is this: 
Let Brother Very prepare for his journey tomorrow as 
though nothing unusual was expected; let us notify two 
or more constables to enter the woods from a different 
direction just after dark to-morrow evening, and at a 
convenient distance from where the plotters post them¬ 
selves behind great trees. Let Friend Nebeker, Brother 
Larkin, and myself steal into the woods as best we can 
and join the constables in season. At the proper time let 
Brother Very ride slowly along, and when he is met by 
the ruffians and the parley takes place, we will suddenly 
rush upon the scene and capture them in their base act.” 

The plan was discussed for some time and, being found 
simple and practicable, was adopted. Costello Nebeker 
was to engage the services of the constables. Being a 
layman, he could do so without exciting suspicion. 

Tuesday evening the sky was partly covered with 
elouds. About the time Jasper Very started from his 
home the moon rose in beauty. Sometimes she threw the 
full glory of her beams upon the white earth as she rode 
in a clear place in the heavens; at others her light was ob¬ 
scured by passing clouds which covered her fair face. 


94 


THE KENTUCKY BANGER 


We can follow the gospel ranger as he left his humble 
boarding place. 

Mounted oil trustworthy Bob, Jasper Very started to 
his appointment. He turned his horse’s head toward the 
east and rode for half a mile along a farm road when, 
coming to a gate, he opened it and came into a broader 
county road. Just opposite this gate stood the immense 
barn on Judge LeMonde’s estate, in which was stored his 
hay and grain and in which were kept his many horses. 
Up a gradual ascent a few hundred feet beyond stood the 
Judge’s mansion. The man of God gazed upon it as its 
outlines were visible in the moonlight. He thought of 
the fair daughter who lived there and who had taken 
such an interest in his welfare. Was it fact or fancy 
which showed him a female figure dressed in white stand¬ 
ing by the west bay window? The distance was too great 
to see clearly; but perhaps that intercommunication of 
minds which in later times we call telepathy was the 
thing which caused his heart to beat with a stronger 
stroke and fired his spirit with greater courage. 

Yes, there was a woman’s form standing at that win¬ 
dow. Viola was watching for Jasper to pass along. Her 
white face was pressed against the window pane, and she 
strained her eyes to see. Her effort was rewarded, for 
she could well perceive the outline of horse and man as 
they went along the road. Although Jasper had sent a 
reply to her note by Moses, thanking her for her interest 
in his welfare and telling her of the conference at the 
tavern, with a woman’s supersensitiveness she was most 
anxious as to the result; and as she saw him ride away 
into danger, she put her hand to her heart and, raising 
her eyes to heaven, prayed most fervently that he might 
be protected from harm. 


INTO A PIT (OR PITCH) 


95 


Jasper Very proceeded on his way along the country 
road. Soon he passed the little schoolhouse on his right, 
then Bethlehem Church on his left. Next he crossed the 
rude bridge spanning the brook, and rode on a half mile 
farther. Leaving the large road, he turned to the left, 
going northwest through the deep woods toward the base 
of Bald Knob. 

As he neared the spot selected for the attack he heard 
faint whistles on both sides of the road which were sig¬ 
nals before agreed upon that his aids were present. Pass¬ 
ing along to the place where he knew the outlaws were 
concealed, he began singing a camp meeting hymn. 

Suddenly the ruffians sprang from the roadside, one 
seizing his horse’s bridle, who proved to be Bert Banks. 

1 ‘Good evening parson, you uns seem to be in a happy 
frame of mind, or air ye singin’ to keep yer courage up?” 
The speaker was Sam Wiles, who was holding his right 
boot. 

“Much courage is not needed when a man is among 
friends or cowards, and you must be one or the other,” 
replied Very. 

“ We’ll show yer what sort of friends we air,” spoke up 
Zibe Turner; “so jest obleege we uns by gittin’ down 
off’n that ’er hoss, or we’ll help yer down.” 

“I have an engagement up the knob tonight, and I have 
net time to tarry with you now,” said the preacher. 

“Well, parson, we uns have fixed up a leetle meetin’ 
on our own account, and there ain’t much singing’ nor 
prayin’ in it, nuther. I reckon we’ll pay yer back for 
tryin’ to spile our bizness and hurt our reputations. If 
you won’t come down far (fair), we uns must help yer 
off,” growled Turner. 


96 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


“Men, I seem to be in your power, and surely I would 
rather dismount of my own accord than be pulled off.’’ 
With these words Very threw his foot over Bob’s back 
and lighted on the ground. 

Instantly he was surrounded by Wiles, Turner, and 
two other ruffians. Bert Danks still held Bob by the bit. 

Very looked about him as best he could, and saw a 
smouldering fire beneath a large pot. In this pot was a 
large quantity of tar which had been somewhat heated to 
soften it, and close by lay a gunny bag containing feath¬ 
ers, while still beyond was a long fence rail which had 
been taken from a zigzag fence not far away. 

“Now, if you’ll be so kind, please take off yer preach¬ 
er’s coat and shirt; and if you find de weather too cold for 
comfort, we uns will put on anudder coat which will keep 
out de air,” remarked Wiles. 

“A matter of necessity need not be discussed,” said 
the traveler, and with this remark he pulled off his long 
clerical outer garment. 

Very did this for a double purpose: first, to free him¬ 
self from incumbrance when he needed to use his arms; 
and, secondly, by removing suspicion of resistance, to take 
his enemies off their guard. 

No sooner had he slipped his coat off than he gave a 
loud whistle, and shooting out his righ't fist with all his 
strength, struck Wiles squarely on the jaw and sent him 
sprawling on the ground several feet away. This was the 
beginning of a strenuous fight. The moment his chief 
was knocked down Zibe Turner, the monster dwarf, 
sprank upon Very, and putting one of his apelike arms 
around his neck, cried: “Dat’s my holt.” With the oth¬ 
er arm he began hitting the parson about the head and 
body. At the same time the other men were trying to 


INTO A PIT (OR PITCH) 


97 


throw him off his feet. Very, knowing help was near at 
hand, made almost superhuman efforts to stand his 
ground, though he was half suffocated and stunned by 
the dwarf’s hug and blows. 

Very’s whistle was answered by a shout down the road, 
and almost instantly the forms of five men appeared. 
The outlaws, though surprised, were not panic-sticken, 
and they met the attack of the constables and preachers 
with reckless bravery. For a quarter of an hour things 
were in a strange mix-up. Wiles, rising from the ground, 
was making for Very, when a burly constable hurrying 
up caught the outlaw and together they fell squirming, 
rolling, twisting, fighting over the ground. 

Another officer made a break for Bert Danks. Letting 
go of Bob’s bridle, he clenched with his man, and they 
were fighting like two possessed. Nathaniel Grimes, the 
great red-headed, raw-boned, lawyer-preacher, was as 
good in a fight as in an argument and, striking one of 
the ruffians, gave a good account of himself. John Larkin 
had to try conclusions with another culprit, and they 
were at it, give and take, like the rest. In like manner 
Nebeker did his part. 

The officer of the law who grappled with Sam Wiles 
was one of the strongest men in the county and, despite 
Wiles’ prowess and desperate fighting, the constable soon 
had him mastered and clapped handcuffs on him. 

In the meantime Jasper Very and the monster dwarf 
were having an interesting combat. Turner would not 
relax his hold upon his adversary in spite of all he could 
do. His grip on his throat was like a coil of the cobra 
de capello. At first Very w r as at the mercy of the dwarf; 
and if things had gone on this way a little longer serious 
consequences would have come to the preacher. Though 


98 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


he was half choked by the other’s arm, Very, summoning 
all his strength, took hold of his antagonists’s arm and 
pulled it from his throat. Then, lifting his enemy in his 
arms, he threw him with violence from him. Very was 
not particular in which direction the ugly man should go 
nor the spot on which he should alight. The fates decreed 
a bitter punishment, for the dwarf came plump into the 
pot of warm tar which had been prepared for the preach¬ 
er. Turner was wedged in the pot, so that he could not 
extricate himself, and meantime the thick fluid beneath 
was making a warm acquaintance with his trousers and 
legs. This unlooked-for disgrace and undoing of the two 
leaders brought the pitched battle to a close. The un¬ 
known rascals, having broken away from their antagon¬ 
ists and seeing the discomfiture of their chiefs, fled up the 
knob road, while the three principals, Wiles, Turner, 
Danks, were taken into custody. 

The scene closes with John Larkin, a broad smile on his 
face, looking at the disconsolate Turner and saying: “He 
digged a pit, and is fallen into the ditch which he made.’* 


CHAPTER XIV. 


Returning Thanks. 

/ T\HE CAPTORS of these outlaws were more merciful 
•*- than the rowdies, for Nathaniel Grimes went to a 
farmhouse not far away and borrowed some clothes to 
replace those tar-besmeared which Turner had on. When 
he had changed his garments the two constables and Neb- 
eker conducted the prisoners on horseback to the county 
seat where they were locked up in jail. 

In the meantime Jasper Very, John Larkin, and Na¬ 
thaniel Grimes mounted their horses and made their way 
up Bald Knob to a little meetinghouse on its top where 
services were to be held. Very’s encounter with the out¬ 
laws had made him late in reaching the church, which 
caused some surprise to those who had assembled, for 
they knew their pastor to be a very punctual man. How¬ 
ever, he thought it best not to mention the cause of his 
delay. Simply remarking that he was unavoidably de¬ 
tained, he began the services. 

Early the next morning our three friends started down 
the knob, Jasper Very to go to Judge LeMonde’s house 
personally to thank Miss Viola for her part in helping 
him to avoid the trap set for him, and Larkin and Grimes 
to ride about fifteen miles down the river road to keep an 
engagement to preach that night at a small hamlet called 
Bridgewater. 


99 


100 


THE KENTUCKY BANGER 


When Jasper Very dismounted at Judge LeMonde’s 
barn gate, he was met by Mose Williams, who burs?- forth 
with loud and eager words: ‘‘Hi! Hi! Mas’r Very, ah 
knows dat yo’ circumwented dem villians. Yo’ don’t 
ketch dis coon nappin’. I war a-layin’ low las’ night to 
see de outcome of dat amberscade, an’ ah seed wid mah 
own eyes dat yo’ won out.” 

“What did you see, Mose, and how did you see it?” 
asked the preacher. 

“Ah war a-hidin’ bellin’ de upper big post of de barn 
gate, an’ ah hearn flosses’ hoofs heatin’ up de road, an’ 
soon de constables cum along wid de prisoners. Wa’n’t 
dem moonshiners mad, do? Jes’ as dey war ’proaching 
de gate Sam Wiles said: ‘Dat cantin’ preacher has got 
me ’rested twice now, but he won’t do it ag’in. Ah’ll 
died ’fore ah’ll let him beat me ’n’ur time.’ An’ den dat 
monkey, Zibe Turner, fell to cussin’ yo’ an’ de constables 
an’ de Jedge an’ all de ch’ch people permiscus. He said, 
ef he knew de rascal what giv’ de plot away, he would 
skin ’im alive an’ hang up his skin in his back yard to 
skeer away de ghosts. He swore sich drefful oaths ah 
was afeered de trees by de roadside was gwine to fall on 
’em. He mad mah blood run col’, an’ ah war pow’ful 
glad he didn’t ’spect me.” 

“Well, Mose, you are safe for the present anyway, for 
these wicked men will be tried in court soon, and they 
will be sent to jail for quite a while. Now put my horse 
in a stall, for I am going to make a call at the big house.” 

Saying this, Jasper Very handed his bridle to Mose, 
and also gave him two bits in silver. He then passed 
through a second gate and walked toward the mansion, 
which was some two hundred yards distant. When he 
got near the door, Sport, king of all Judg^e LeMonde’s 


RETURNING THANKS 


101 


hunting dogs, came bounding toward him, loudly bark¬ 
ing. This great animal was dangerous to strangers but, 
knowing Very, he came up to him and licked his hand 
with his red tongue. Very spoke to him and admired his 
noble form—his high forehead, intelligent eyes, wide nos¬ 
trils, deep chest, long yellow body, slim but muscular 
legs—then walked on to the front piazza and rang the 
doorbell. 

While he is waiting there let us take a peep inside. 
Miss Viola LeMonde, by a law of mind not yet explained, 
had a premonition that a certain clergyman would visit 
her that morning. ! So she had a particular care as to her 
apparel. She called her faithful maidservant Nora to bring 
her a white dress, which had a faint shade of blue mixed 
with the white. This gown, which exactly fitted her 
shapely figure, she put on, and around her neck and 
wrists she placed soft and delicate ruching. Then she 
went to the flower conservatory and selecting a deep-red 
rosebud, placed it against some dark green leaves and 
pinned it to her dress. Her hair was formed at the back 
in a large knot of gold, while over her beautiful brows it 
was brushed smooth, giving her a look like a Madonna. 

When Very rang the bell Viola was in the sitting room 
to the right of the hall. Nora opened the door and in¬ 
vited him into the drawing room at the left of the hall. 
With a perversity which no mere man understands, and 
we suppose is unaccountable to woman’s mind, Viola 
would not at once greet the minister, but laid that duty 
upon her mother. In a minute or two Madame LeMonde, 
a stately dame in form and mien, worthy of the position 
she occupied, walked into the room and cordially shook 
hands with Mr. Very. “I am glad to see you this fine 
morning, Mr. Very,” she said. “Did you escape the base 


102 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


designs of those wicked men last night? Viola told me 
of the plot they had laid to do yon harm. I am sorry that 
my husband and son were away, that they could not help 
you in your need.” 

“Yes, Mrs. LeMonde, thanks to the timely warning 
that your good daughter sent me, I was able to thwart 
their evil purposes; and at this moment the ringleaders, 
Sam Wiles, Zibe Turner, and Harve Davis are in the coun¬ 
ty jail. I have called personally to thank your daughter 
for her kindness to me. Is she at home this morning?” 

“She is, Mr. Very, and if you will excuse me, I will 
send her into the room.” 

By this time Viola had brought her perverse little 
heart into harmony with her real wish and, having quiet¬ 
ed her nerves by a strong effort of will, she was ready to 
heed her mother’s summons to enter the drawing-room. 
As she stepped across the threshold there was a moment 
of embarrassment during which neither spoke; but it was 
only for a moment, Jasper Very being too full of grati¬ 
tude to remain long silent. “Miss Viola,” he said, grasp¬ 
ing her hand, “I have come this morning to thank you 
for your great kindness in apprising me of Sam Wiles’ 
plot to injure me. I am under a thousand obligations to 
you for what you did.” 

“Do not speak of that, Mr. Very; it was a thing any 
friend would have done. But tell me whether or not you 
escaped from their intentions without any injury to your¬ 
self.” 

“Yes, thanks to your promptness, I was able to enlist 
some friends on my behalf, and with them and some offi¬ 
cers of the law we were able to outwit the ruffians and 
beat them at their own game.” He then laid before her 
in detail the events of the past night. 


RETURNING THANKS 


103 


Viola listened with closest attention to the narrative. 
When Jasper spoke of being surrounded by the outlaws 
and their threats, the color left her cheeks; but when he 
told how their enemies were overcome and the ludricrous 
predicament of Turner as he sat in the pot of tar, a sigh 
of relief escaped her lips, which was followed by a hearty 
laugh.However, her mood soon changed, and with a seri¬ 
ous look coming into her blue eyes she said: “I am sure 
those moonshiners are a menace to our community. They 
are becoming more and more hardened and reckless. I 
fear that they will yet do some of us great injury. They 
doubtless hate papa, who has to sentence them to prison, 
and they are foes of all order-loving men and women in 
this region. As to Sam Wiles, I cannot bear to be near 
him. His very presence repels and frightens me. When 
he looked at me in church last Sunday night, I shuddered. 
It seemed as though a venomous snake had put its folds 
around my neck. Zibe Turner, called the monster dwarf, 
seems to me to be almost less than human. He combines 
the ferocity of the tiger, the slyness of the fox, and the 
shape of a monkey. I am doubly alarmed when he is 
near.” 

* 1 This is the natural recoil of virtue away from vice,” 
said Jasper Very. “God has given to woman an intuitive 
sense which, without any long process of reasoning, 
shows her when a man is bad. It is her protection against 
his greater strength. It is the Almighty’s gift to her, 
and is beyond the value of rubies. If she will use it, she 
need never be deceived as to a man’s inner character.” 

“I suppose that is why we women can trust some people 
from the moment we see them and are suspicious of oth¬ 
ers from the very first.” 


104 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


“Undoubtedly it is; and all women should beware of 
men whose persons, looks, or acts repel that fine discrim¬ 
inating sense within them. Every man should ask him¬ 
self the question: ‘Have I sufficient moral integrity and 
nobility to pass muster before the eyes of a pure-minded 
woman V If he can say ‘Yes’ to this, he is to be congrat¬ 
ulated.” 

“I am afraid most men are so self-sufficient that they 
think the other sex is blind to their faults, and will toler¬ 
ate and cling to them whether or not.’ 

“They may think so when they reflect only lightly; but 
when they consider deeply, they know that they can re¬ 
ceive the respect of good women only when they are wor¬ 
thy of it. This should stimulate them to be knightly in 
character—pure, true, gentle, kind, brave, thoroughly 
good.” 

“I am glad you have such a high ideal, and trust you 
will live up to it. If so, you will be my Sir Knight, to 
lead me to Uncle Pete’s cabin. His little girl is down 
with the measles, and I have promised to act as doctor 
and nurse for the poor child." 

“I will be happy to act as your humble servant on this 
errand of mercy. In the meantime I wish to get your 
consent to go with me in a buggy to Mount Zion meeting¬ 
house next Friday. An all-day meeting is to be held 
there, and I am to preach in the morning. I desire the 
help of your voice in the singing. We can return in the 
afternoon. What do you say?” 

“If mamma gives permission, I shall gladly go; but let 
us proceed now to the quarters, and you shall comfort the 
soul of the mother while I try to help the girl’s body.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


Cupid’s Chariot. 

A one-seated buggy is Cupid’s most formidable chariot. 
•*** It beats an automobile farther than we can say. 
An automobile is an intricate piece of machinery and the 
driver, if he is of the right kind, will exercise the great¬ 
est care. He must look well to his steering, must dili¬ 
gently examine the road as he passes along to avoid ob¬ 
structions, ruts and broken pieces of glass, and especially 
is it necessary for him to keep his car from colliding with 
other machines. This divides his attention and interferes 
very much with freedom of conversation, and that mu¬ 
tual joy which comes from undisturbed companionship. 

As to guiding the wheel with one hand and stealing the 
other around the waist of a fair companion, if it were al¬ 
lowed by the moral law, it is prohibited by state regula¬ 
tion. The procedure is often dangerous in more senses 
than one. 

But riding in a buggy is different. There is just enough 
attention required in driving to relieve awkwardness. 
If a country bumpkin is seated by his best girl, and can 
speak only in monosyllables, and those few and far be¬ 
tween, he can at least say to his horse: “Git ep.” If his 
hands are so big, red and rough that he is ashamed of 
them, they can by holding reins and whip pass muster. 
His cowhide boots, shining with bear’s grease or lard, can 
be hidden under the buggy robe. 

105 


106 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


When a young man takes the young lady of his choice 
for a drive, he feels a sort of proprietorship in her. He 
has her company all to himself. With this sensation 
comes another of responsibility. He must protect her 
from all harm and look well to her comfort. He wraps 
her up carefully in the thick robe, which he bought last 
week at the county seat, paying a half month’s wages for 
it. He shields her from the least cold, when perhaps that 
very morning she has hung out a wash in her mother’s 
yard with the temperature about zero. 

When Friday morning came round Jasper Very came 
with it. He drove his faithful Bob, hitched to a new 
buggy, in front of Judge LeMonde’s imposing mansion. 

Presently Viola appeared, her outside wrap being a 
heavy beaver cloak which buttoned under her chin and 
reached nearly to the ground. Upon her head she wore 
a hat corresponding in color with her cloak. The somber 
hue of the hat was relieved only by a band and knot of 
blue ribbon; for in those days feathers and flowers were 
not allowed. However, she needed no outside ornament 
to increase her beauty. Her cheeks were red as roses as 
they were touched by the sharp wintry air; her eyes 
shone bright and clear with the look of perfect health. 

Jasper Very assisted her into the vehicle and jumping 
in himself adjusted the heavy lap robe about them both. 
He spoke to Bob and they were off. Nora, the servant, 
with a laugh called after them: “How nice yo’ look rid¬ 
ing togedder. ’Pears like yo’ made fo’ each odder.” 
Viola shook her hand at the girl, but did not seem much 
displeased. They went down a private way to the big 
gate opening on the county road and, soon striking the 
river road, turned to the left in an opposite direction from 
that which Larkin and Grimes had taken. 


CUPID’S CHARIOT 


107 

For a while they were a bit embarrassed, for this was 
the first time they had ridden in a buggy together. They 
confined their remarks to the weather, the bad roads, the 
Casey old maids (whose house they passed), the swollen 
Cumberland River, and other small talk. However, this 
constraint soon passed and they began chatting and 
laughing in a natural and pleasant way. 

“Mr. Very,” said Viola, “I want you to tell me about 
the adventure you had on a ferry boat, to which John 
Larkin referred the last time I saw him.” 

“That was one of the strangest experiences of my life,” 
replied Jasper. “A couple of years ago, before coming 
to this region, some of my friends wanted me to run for 
the office of representative to the State Legislature. I 
did not much like the idea of ministers being put forward 
for political office; but, thinking if elected I might do 
some good at Frankfort, I consented to be a candidate. 
One day on my electioneering tour I was wanting to cross 
the river on a ferryboat, and was passing through some 
underbrush and woods near the embarking place when I 
heard some one say: ‘That Jasper Very is a great rascal 
and so are all his preacher friends. They will steal horses 
and do other mean things. It is a scandal to the county 
that such a man as Very should be put up to run for office 
and the first time I see him I intend to whip him for his 
impudence.’ This surprised me a little, and I tried to 
find another way of reaching the boat without passing 
these men; but the underbrush was so thick I had to go 
that way. I summoned up all my courage and rode up. 
There were six men talking together. I said: ‘Gentle¬ 
men, who is the man among you who is going to whip 
Very the first time he sees him?’ The man who had made 
tjie threat spoke out and said: f I am the lark that’s go- 


108 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


ing to thrash him well.’ Said I: ‘Very is known to t&l 
much of a man, and it will take a man to whip him, mind 
you.’ ‘0 no,’ said he, ‘I can whip any such preacher the 
Lord ever made?’ ‘Well, sir,’ said I, ‘you cannot do it. 
My name is Very and, as I never like to live in dread, if 
you really intend to whip me, come and do it now.’ He 
looked confused, and said: ‘Oh, you can’t fool me that 
way. You are not Very.’ ‘Well,’ said I, ‘that is my name, 
and now is your time. If you must whip me do it now.’ He 
said: ‘No, no, you are not Very at all; you only want to 
fool me.’ By this time we had got into the boat and he 
began again cursing Very. I said to a gentleman: ‘Please 
hold my horse,’ and stepping up to the cursing disciple 
said sternly to him: ‘Now sir, you have to whip me as you 
threatened or'quit cursing me, or I will put you in the 
driver and baptize you in the name of the devil, for you 
surely belong to him.’ This settled him and, strange to 
say, when election day came he voted for me, and has 
been my friend ever since.” 

“I am glad he learned such a needed and salutary les¬ 
son,” said Viola. “I have heard my father say that a 
braggart is generally a coward. My mind commends 
your course, Mr. Very, of walking boldly up to danger 
and daring it to do its worst; but my woman’s heart 
shrinks from the presence of peril.” 

“Merely to think upon danger makes you and most 
women timid; but when the reality comes I believe your 
sex is as brave as mine. In many encounters with rough 
and wicked men in the wilderness I have found that a. 
bold front is the best way to avoid evils which threaten. 
A brave word, backed by a good cause, often disarms an 
adversary.” 


CUPID’S CHARIOT 


109 


Thus with anecdote, comment, and talk of church work 
they rode along, their acquaintanceship increasing, and 
each, scarcely conscious of the act, looking into each oth¬ 
er’s heart to find there its thoughts and feelings. 

When they had approached within a half mile of Shiloh 
meeting house, their destination, Jasper said: 4 ‘Miss Vi¬ 
ola, you remember I requested you to sing at this coming 
service. Perhaps you expected to join your voice only 
with that of the congregation, but I want you to favor us 
with a solo before I rise to preach. It will be something 
new at Shiloh, but all the more impressive for that. The 
other evening I heard you sing in your drawing-room that 
inspiring hymn: 

‘Lo! he comes with c-l'ouds descending, 

Once for favored sinners slain. ’ 

“Now I am to preach this morning on ‘Christ’s Second 
Coming, ’ and the hymn will be a good introduction to the 
sermon. Will you agree to sing it?” 

He looked down into her eyes to see if he could find 
consent in them. She did not answer immediately, but 
seemed to be in deep thought. Finally she looked up in¬ 
to his face, and there was a trace of tears in her blue eyes 
as she said: “Mr. Very, I have never stood alone before 
the public and sung. It would be a great trial for me to 
do so today; but if by singing I can glorify my Master 
by helping some poor soul to a better life, and if I can be 
of any aid to you, I will do the best I can.” 

“Thank you, Viola (somehow he forgot to use the 
‘Miss’), and I am sure God’s Holy Spirit will use your 
voice to benefit many this day.” 

Soon they reached Shiloh meeting house, and were wel¬ 
comed by John Larkin and Nathaniel Grimes who had 


110 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


finished their meeting at Bridgewater and had come to 
this all-day gathering. In fact, Larkin was in charge 
of it. 

As usual, on such occasions many horses were hitched 
to trees and saplings, a large number of the people having 
come long distances. 

At ten o’clock the great service of the morning began. 
The church was filled with an expectant crowd, for it was 
generally known that Jasper Very was to preach. Jasper 
and several other ministers were seated on a long bench 
back of the pulpit. The preliminary exercises were over 
and all were looking for the speaker to begin his sermon, 
when Jasper Very arose and quietly said: “Friends, Miss 
Viola LeMonde has kindly consented to sing a solo at this 
time.” Many eyes were at once turned to the young 
lady, who was sitting to the right of the pulpit. Her 
beautiful face flushed a little with their scrutiny; but she 
at once arose and walking in front of the wooden table 
which answered for a pulpit, without any help from organ 
or piano (the room having no such instrument) she began 
singing that stirring hymn: 

“Lo! he comes with clouds descending.” 

As she proceeded with the song all timidity left her and 
she became possessed with the sentiment of the piece. 
When she sang 

“Every eye shall now behold him 
Clothed in glorious majesty,” 

she raised her own eyes toward heaven, as though she 
saw the Son of man seated at the right hand of God’s 
throne. A feeling of awe mingled with joy seized the 


CUPID’S CHARIOT 


111 


people, and they also looked upward, drawn by the rapt 
gaze of the singer. 

Her face looked like that of an angel as, transported 
with her theme, she sang in a pure soprano voice: 

“Yea, amen! let all adore thee, 

High on thy eternal throne ,* 

Savior, take the power and glory, 

Claim the kingdom for thine own: 

Jah! Jehovah! 

Everlasting God, come down.” 

As she called upon the God of heaven to descend upon 
that company she lifted her hand toward the low and 
humble roof, and with her eyes still gazing up she seem¬ 
ed to see the iSon of man coming in his glory on the clouds 
of power. The effect was marvellous. Many people were 
in tears. Some sighed deeply as though for relief while 
others, raising their arms above their heads, shouted the* 
praises of God. 

When Viola took her seat Jasper Very arose in his 
place and stood looking over his congregation for some* 
moments in silence. He did not wish to destroy the ef¬ 
fects of the song—and wanted to give the people time to 
quiet their aroused feelings. He then proceeded with 
his discourse on our Lord’s second appearing, but though 
he preached in his usual masterly way and held the at¬ 
tention of his audience throughout the tide of feeling did 
not rise as high as when Viola sang. He was willing that 
she should bear the honors of the occasion. That singing 
was long remembered and passed into tradition among 
the people. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


Horse Thieves. 

S PRINGTIME in Kentucky. One wants a new lan¬ 
guage to express its charms. Winter’s shadows fly 
away. Clouds that looked dark, heavy, and threatening 
are followed by rosy sunsets and luminous peaks in the 
sky which appear like mountains standing round about 
the New Jerusalem. A warm breath of nature starts 
from the spicy islands south of the great Gulf, crosses it, 
then sweeps along Mississippi’s mighty valley to the 
* ‘happy hunting ground,” bearing in its soft embrace 
birds of many wing—robin, bluebird, thrush, and spar¬ 
row. This breath melts the icy fetters of the streams, 
and they sing a sweet song of welcome. It enfolds the 
trees, and they put forth millions of little green ears to 
hear what the streams are saying. It fondly caresses the 
flower bushes, and they swell almost to bursting with re¬ 
viving beauty. Like the green bush which Moses saw 
aflame with holy fire, every branch and twig shows the 
mystic presence of nature’s God. 

While birds with brightened plumage sing as though 
their lives would escape through their throats; while 
lambs, calves, and colts gambol in the pasture, filled with 
the happiness of young life; while fish rush upstream like 
flashes of silver light and the very trees clap their hands 
in praise, it is not conceivable that" man, God’s master¬ 
piece, should be insensible to this season of the year. A 

112 


HORSE THIEVES 


na 


sudden thrill like an electric current passes through his 
being; a subtle exhilaration, <as when a man is filled with 
wine, possesses him, and he is in touch with the new life, 
whether he goes afield with team or plow or hunts the 
forest for the increasing game. 

It was a day in early April. All the planters were busy 
in their fields, either laboring with their own hands or 
superintending the toil of their slaves. The negroes— 
those jocund children of nature—with happy faces and 
plantation melodies on their lips, were preparing the 
ground for its grain and tobacco seed. Judge LeMonde 
himself was in a rich field between his house and the river 
giving directions to his chief overseer. In the front gar¬ 
den, between the house and pine trees, could be seen 
Madam and Viola LeMonde and Mose and Nora all busy 
putting flower beds in order. Mose was digging the 
ground, Nora was using a light rake, and the white wom¬ 
en were putting in some flower seeds. 

While such peaceful work was being done in the river 
bottom, another scene was taking place at Simon Wiles’ 
hillside farm. Though the season and weather called to 
earnest effort, we see Sam Wiles and Zibe Turner, the 
monster dwarf, seated on a big log behind the barn. Let 
us listen to what they are saying: 

Wiles: “De ol’ Jedge guv us a term in de jug (jail), 
an’ I’m sure goin’ to git even wuth him an’ dat preacher 
too.” 

Turner: 4 ‘I’ll be wuth you in ary scrape you want to 
git up, but we uns must be keerful not to be ketched 
ag’in.” 

Wiles: “ Cordin’ to my thinkin’, each month we’uns 
war in de jug is wurth de price of a hoss.” 


114 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


Turner: “That’s yer game, is it? Well, ’tain’t de fust 
time we’uns hev borrowed a hoss an’ fergot to return ’im, 
but we’uns never struck so high up as de Jedge’s stock. 
What hosses air you thinkin’ on?” 

Wiles: “What ones do you suppose? De best ones, 
’o course. We’uns must take Velox for de money he will 
bring in Paducky, an’ I want to bring down de pride ’o 
dat young upstart, George LeMonde. We’uns both owed 
’im a grudge sence he beat you in de race an’ won what 
leetle money we’uns had. De nex’ best hoss in de barn 
is Dolly, an’ we’ll take her ’long to keep de bay com- 
pney.” 

Turner: “Dat suits me all right; but I want to ride 
Velox, ’cause he went past me in de race. Won’t I make 
? im trabble, do, down de ribber road! Dat’s my holt.” 

Wiles: “We’uns must wait till we git a good night. 
De moon is full now, an’ de light is too bright. Four 
nights from now it will rise purty late, an’ den we’ll pro¬ 
ceed to bizness. We’uns want a leetle light to show us how 
to git in de bawn an’ move ’round. I hear dad callin’ me 
to go plowin’, so we’uns must be go in’. Dis is Friday. 
Come to de house to-morrer evenin’, an’ we’uns’ll settle 
de partic’lars.” 

The two men parted, (Sam Wiles to help his father to 
prepare to plant their small crop of corn, wheat and to¬ 
bacco, and Zibe Turner, with the cunning of a fox and 
the look of ;a savage bear, to slink through the backwoods 
to his mother’s little cabin some miles distant. 

Monday night was a time just suited to their designs. 
They had to act very cautiously for horse stealing at that 
time in Kentucky was considered almost the greatest 
crime in the catalogue, and woe betide any horse thief 
;who was caught and found guilty! There was little dan- 


HORSE THIEVES 


115 


ger of the “law’s delay” in his case, for a rope and a 
limb of a tree prevented all court expenses. 

) By a small bridge near Franklin Schoolhouse Sam 
1 Wiles met by appointment Zibe Turner and the two walk¬ 
ed along the road, having little fear of being seen as it 
wias near midnight. They soon reached Judge LeMonde’s 
barn lot and now had to use the utmost caution not to 
arouse the great dog Sport or any of his satellites. By 
degrees they pushed open the heavy gate. Then they 
went to the barn door through which the horses were led 
to their stalls. It was fastened, but with a common lock. 
Wiles had brought a bunch of keys for just such an emer¬ 
gency, and after trying two or three found one which fit¬ 
ted the lock. In a moment they were inside the great 
barn. A long row of stalls was just before them. They 
carefully closed the door and Wiles, taking a flint and 
steel and some tinder from his pocket, struck out a spark 
which ignited the tinder. He then applied a long brim¬ 
stone match to the tinder, and at once the match was 
ablaze. They soon found in which stalls were the horses 
they wanted, Velox being in the first stall and Dolly in the 
third. Back of the horses were pegs upon which hung 
harnesses. Wiles quickly unbuckled Dolly’s halter and 
put a riding bridle on her. He then selected a fine saddle 
and placed it upon her back. Turner did the same for 
Velox. They then reopened the barn door, and Turner 
led Velox into the yard. Wiles at once followed with 
Dolly. To prevent all suspicion they closed the bam 
door but left it unlocked. It seemed as though they 
would get away without arousing man or dog; but just as 
they were leading the horses through the barn gate Velox, 
perhaps incensed at being taken from his stall at that 
unseemly hour and leaving his mates, gave a loud neigh. 


116 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


This sound was heard by Sport who was sleeping in a£ 
coach house at the rear of the mansion six hundred feet 
away. At once the faithful animal, suspecting something 
was wrong, set up a great barking, and was instantly 
joined by a group of dogs which were with him. The 
thieves, being afraid that the barking would arouse the 
plantation, jumped into their saddles and rode quietly 
along the county road till they reached the river road a 
quarter of a mile beyond. Here they stopped to observe 
if anything would happen at the house. 

Now the acute ears of the dogs had heard the hoofbeats 
of the horses in the still night, and they continued to emit 
a chorus of bairks. At last their noise awoke Judge Le- 
Monde, who was dreaming that twenty lawyers were all 
pleading a case at once. Thinking something unusual 
was the matter, he arose and dressed and called up 
George, his son. Together they went out to the carriage 
house and tried to quiet the dogs, but they continued 
barking. The men could find nothing out of place. But 
the judge, being somewhat uneasy, said to his son: “Let 
us go down to the barn and see whether or not the horses 
are all right.’’ 

So they started down the road, past the negro cabins 
(all the slaves being sound asleep), and on to the barn. 
They went into the barn, and soon discovered the absence 
of the horses. The judge was a man of decision and 
courage. He said: “George, thieves have broken into the 
barn and stolen our two best horses. I do not believe they 
have been gone long. Run instantly and arouse Mose and 
some of the other slaves. Tell your mother what has 
happened, and say that we are going at once to follow the 
thieves. While you are gone I will get out Prince, Clay 
and Bess, and we will go after the villains.” 


HORSE THIEVES 


117 


George ran to do his father’s bidding, and soon most 
of the whites and slaves on the place were informed of 
the theft, and were wild with excitement as a result. 

• In the meantime "Wiles and Turner saw the lights in the 
house and were sure their deed was discovered. It was 
too late to return the horses to the barn, and they decided 
to carry out their first intention and ride them as rapidly 
as possible twenty-five miles down the river road, and 
there deliver them to a confederate, who would smuggle 
them to a horse dealer in Paducah. They put spurs to 
their horses and the noble brutes started down the river 
road at a fast gait. At the beginning the thieves had ev¬ 
ery advantage. They were mounted upon Judge Le- 
Monde’s fastest horses, and they had several minutes’ 
start of their pursuers. So that they were more than a 
mile down the river road when the chase began. 

“Ha! Ha!” laughed Zibe Turner, “I ’spects I’m ahead 
in dis race. De time befo’ Velox passed me; but now I’m 
ridin’ him, an’ I’d like to see de debil hisself overtake 
me.” 

“We’uns air safe,” said Wiles, “but we’uns must hold 
back our bosses sum, for we uns hev a good jaunt to take, 
an’ it won’t do to tire ’em out at fust.” 

Both acted at once on this sensible advice, and they 
brought the ready animals down to a moderate trot. It 
was now a little past midnight, and not a soul was to be 
seen on the road. A light breeze blew softly from the 
south, shaking the tiny forest leaves and blowing across 
the fields to welcome the coming footsteps of another day. 

Though these bad men boasted to each other that they 
had the winning hand, there was some uneasiness in their 
hearts. They knew that this was the highest stake they 
had ever played ; they were striking at the chief man of 


118 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


the county, and had stolen the best horses on his planta¬ 
tion. Should the heavy hand of justice smite them, it 
would be a stunning blow. The voice of conscience was 
not utterly dead, and it aroused fears in their hearts that 
they were not willing to acknowledge even to themselves ; 
but, like many other desperate men, their very alarm oc¬ 
casioned a fiercer determination to show a bold front. 

About two o’clock that morning honest David Hester, 
who lived about fifteen miles distant from Judge Le- 
Monde, was awakened from his deep sleep by a pounding 
in his barn, which stood not far from his house. Honest 
David knew at once what was the matter,—his horse Jim 
was kicking in his stall. This valuable beast had a habit 
at irregular intervals of kicking and pawing in the barn. 
Once or twice his restless feeling had made him use his 
legs so vigorously that he was thrown in his stall; and if 
his owner had not come to his help, he might have been 
fatally hurt. This night Jim’s knocking was specially 
violent. Farmer Hester at last arose and went to the 
barn to quiet the restless creature. Speaking kindly to 
him, he turned him into a box stall and returned to the 
house. 

Just as he was entering the rear door he heard the 
sound of horses’s hoofs some distance up the river road. 
His curiosity aroused, he decided to see who the early 
travelers were. He walked to the front yard and stood 
under a large lilac bush which was already covered thick¬ 
ly with leaves. 

The horsemen came on quickly. The moonlight was 
not sufficiently clear for David to see distinctly; but he 
noticed that the rider nearer him was a short man mount¬ 
ed on ;a dark horse, and that the other was a larger man 
riding a lighter-colored horse having a white spot in its 


HORSE THIEVES 


119 


forehead. David did not recognize either the men or 
horses, but the suspicion flashed across his mind that the 
lighter-colored horse was Judge LeMonde’s Dolly. How¬ 
ever, he was not sure, and in a moment the men had rid¬ 
den by. 

Honest David returned to his house and bed. It prov¬ 
ed, however, to be a night of interruptions, for he had 
hardly gotten between the sheets and fallen into a sound 
slumber before there came a loud knocking at the front 
door. David—and in fact • his whole household—was 
aroused thereby, and hastening to the window, he tried to 
learn what was the matter. He saw in the yard below 
three men standing by three horses and heard the quick 
and eager words of Judge LeMonde: “ Hurry, Friend 
David, and come to our help. My barn was broken into 
about midnight and my horses Velox and Dolly stolen 
from it. We are almost sure the thieves headed this way 
down the river, for where the county road meets the river 
road we examined the hoofprints as best we could, and 
decided the horses turned this way.” 

i 1 Yes, Judge, IT1 help you all I can, and will be down in 
a hurry.” Honest Hester left the window and was soon 
down in the yard, followed presently by his sons, wife 
and daughter Henrietta, all greatly excited by the news. 

Judge LeMonde continued: “We three have ridden our 
horses very hard, and cannot hope to overtake the thieves 
without fresh animals. They were careful to take my 
best blooded stock, and had considerable start of us. Will 
you kindly favor us with the loan of some of your horses? 
With them I think we may overtake the rascals.” 

4 * That I will, Judge,” said Hester, “and my boys and I 
will go along to help capture the rogues. I am sure you 
are on the right track, for half an hour ago I saw two men 


120 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


riding past on horseback, and I suspicioned one horse was 
your Dolly, for it had a white star in its forehead, but I 
was not dead sure.” j 

The men now hurried to the barn, and Jim was taken 
out to do something besides pawing in his stall. Other 
horses were brought out and soon seven men vaulted into 
saddles,—Judge LeMonde, his son George, his servant 
Mose, David Hester and three of his stalwart sons. One 
son remained behind to care for the three horses, which 
were covered with mud, foam, sweat, and were badly 
winded. 

Though in such haste, Judge LeMonde could not for¬ 
get his duty to the ladies. He apologized for so rudely 
disturbing their slumbers, and thanked them for their 
interest and sympathy in his undertaking. They lifted 
their hats and were away down the road. Madam Hester 
and her daughter waved them adieu, watching the riders 
as far as they could in the dim light. 

As they were passing through the hamlet of Bridge- 
water Mose saluted his master by lifting his hand to his 
wooly head (in the hurry of starting he had not thought 
of his hat), and said: “Mas’r LeMonde. I ’snect we mus’ 
ride like de win’ in dis stretch ob de race; fer I had hearn 
der is a byroad ten miles furder on which leads inter a 
mighty wild place wid many windin’ paths; an’ ef de 
tiefs gets dair, dey’ll sho’ give us de slip.” 

David Hester, having traveled this road before, cor¬ 
roborated the negro’s words. 

Judge LeMonde replied: 1 ‘The advice Mose gives is 
very good, so we must travel with utmost speed, for we 
must make every effort to capture the scoundrels.” 

With this they all gave rein to their horses and made 
napid progress down the road. The men were so intent 


HORSE THIEVES 


121 


on watching the road and guiding their horses that few 
words were spoken as they went along. 

Those who are acquainted with the river road below 
Bridgewater will remember that the knobs come very 
near to the river and the road runs close to the foot of the 
hills. Hence there is not much chance for a horseman to 
escape from his pursuers except by outriding them. 

Sam Wiles and Zibe Turner had come within three miles 
of the place of which Mose had spoken. They were con¬ 
gratulating themselves on their good fortune, when the 
quick ears of Turner heard the sounds of horses' hoofs 
some distance in the rear. “Pard," he said, “hear dat? 
Da air on our track, sure as shootin', an' by de sound I 
know der is several on 'em." 

“What can we do?" asked Wiles. “De knobs air too 
steep to climb, for der ain't no roads about here, an' de 
ribber is near us on de left. Our only chance is to reach 
de forks of de road 'fore dey can overtake us. But Dolly 
is purty well played out. Der ain’t much go in her. How 
is Velox standin' it?" 

“My hoss shows his blood an' trainin'," said Turner. 
“He's all in a sweat an’ lather an' he breathes fast, but 
I tink he's good for de distance. You’uns must gib Dolly 
mo' whip and spur. Better to kill her dan to be tuk." 

Wiles thought the monster dwarf's words sensible, and 
he drove the cruel spurs into poor Dolly’s sides without 
mercy and lashed her with the whip. The gallant mare 
responded with increased speed. But it was like the flick¬ 
er of a candle almost consumed. 

Just at this time, the morning now beginning to break, 
the thieves were discovered by their pursuers, who, thus 
encouraged, sent up a shout together and urged their 
horses to greater speed. The animals, still comparatively 


122 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


fresh, increased their gait and gained rapidly upon those 
ahead. It was now a desperate race. Horseflesh was not 
considered by either party,—only a wild desire to escape 
by one and a determination to bring the outlaws to justice 
by the other. 

Strange to say, the dwarf became the leader in this ter-' 
rible emergency, perhaps because he felt there was yet 
considerable reserve power in his mount, Velox. 4 4 Hang 
to her a leetle longer, Sam,” he cried. 44 One quarter 
mile mo’, an’ we can shake ’em off. Speak to Dolly, gib 
her her head, an’ spur her in a fresh place.” 

This Wiles did. 44 Go it, Dolly! Good girl! Show’em 
your heels! A few rods mo’.” 

But it was no use. The limit of her strength was reach¬ 
ed. Her breath came in gasps, her flanks trembled, she 
began staggering as she ran, and when within a hundred 
feet of the turn she fell head foremost, throwing her rider 
to the ground and falling heavily on her side. 

Even in this predicament the monster dwarf did not 
lose his nerve; he halted Velox a second and said to his 
chief: 4 4 1 ’ll git away on Velox an’ cum to yer help ef I 
can. Keep a stiff upper lip. Nevah say die. Dat’s my 
holt. Good-by.” 

With this he again drove the spurs into Velox’s side, 
and was off. It was time, for his pursuers were shouting, 
44 Halt! Halt!” and then the sharp crack of rifles was 
heard, and balls went whizzing by Turner’s head. But 
he was soon at the turn, and with one wild yell of mingled 
triumph and hate he turned to the right, plunged into the 
thick woods, and was lost to sight. He had escaped. 

In the meantime Sam Wiles, half dazed by his fall, was 
still lying on the ground when the Judge and his men rode 


HORSE THIEVES 


123 


up. Quickly the Judge said to Hester: “You hold Wiles 
and I will attend to Dolly.” 

They all dismounted and Hester did as requested. The 
Judge, George, and Mose drew near to faithful Dolly, and 
the Judge knelt down and took her head in his lap and 
spoke to her in soothing tones. He asked for water for 
her and George ran for some, but it was too late. Her 
eyes were already becoming glazed in death; but she gaz¬ 
ed up into her owner's face with a look of recognition. 
Then a shiver went through her frame, she closed her 
eyes, and ceased to breathe. 

The Judge and George wept, and were not ashamed to 
show their tears; while Mose, who had always cared for 
the horse, sobbed aloud in his grief, and on a sudden im¬ 
pulse of anger administered a kick to prostrate Wiles, the 
“po* white trash,” who had killed Mas Vs hoss. 

Judge LeMonde gave directions for Mose to bury 
Dolly’s body in a decent manner, and then the rest pre¬ 
pared to return to their homes. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


Lynch Law or the Gospel. 

W ILES, the captive horse thief, was given Mose’s 
horse to ride and, closely guarded by the six 
men, they all retraced their journey up the river road. 
Wiles was sullen and morose, having little to say. His 
look was that of a guilty and disappointed man, yet he 
carried a don’t care, half defiant air which was more as¬ 
sumed than real. 

Bad news travels fast. The very atmosphere seems to 
bear it from house to house. Farmers had begun to pass 
along the road in their wagons; they heard and spread 
the account of the horse-stealing. It flashed through the 
hamlet of Bridgewater with incredible rapidity. As men 
heard the reports they became wildly excited and grimly 
determined to punish the thieves if caught. Some, by na¬ 
ture more excitable than others, left their work and rode 
down the road to aid as best they could in the pursuit. 
These met the party as it was returning, and swelled their 
number. They were not backward in expressing their 
opinions of the culprit as they cast black and angry looks 
upon him. 

These people of the “bottoms” were of a higher class 
than the “poor whites” who abode in the hills. They 
lived in far better houses, they had better school and 
church privileges, and their sense of moral values was 
keener than the others. While as a rule they were not 
124 


LYNCH LAW OR THE GOSPEL 


125 


experts in grammar and rhetoric, their language was 
much superior to that heard in the back districts. 

“Lynch him,” “Fill his carcass with bullets,” “String 
him up high as Haman,” “He's been in many scrapes like 
this; now we've caught him, let's make short work of 
him,” “Hanging is too good for him; he ought to be skin¬ 
ned alive,”—such were some of the expressions which sa¬ 
luted Wiles' ears, and they did not serve to make his 
nerves any more quiet. 

When the men reached Bridgewater the morning was 
well advanced and they were met by a considerable com¬ 
pany from the village and surrounding plantations. There 
were a few women among the crowd and a. few chil¬ 
dren. Any one looking upon that gathering could see 
that they threatened vengeance. Hiram Sanders, the 
herculean blacksmith, was their leader. This was the 
blacksmith who was a terror to all wrestlers, and who 
was never whipped except once, and then by Jasper Very. 
When Jasper came into those parts Sanders said: “I've 
licked all the preachers who have come around here and 
I intend to lick this one.” The two met on horseback, 
dismounted, and began their bout. The blacksmith had 
found his match and Very with a desperate effort threw 
the fellow over an adjoining fence. Sanders' pride and 
fighting spirit were both broken, and he humbly said: 
“If you please, Mr. Preacher, will you be so kind as to 
throw my horse over the fence too?” His defeat put 
Sanders on good terms with Very and now they were 
close friends. 

As the men guarding Wiles entered Bridgewater they 
were met and stopped by the crowd which had gathered. 
The mighty blacksmith walked up to Judge LeMonde and, 
addressing him in a respectful manner said: “Judge, we 


126 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


have heard about this bad scrape; but we want to know 
the straight of it, and you will obleege us by telling it 
from first to last?” 

Judge LeMonde stated the facts in a clear and simple 
manner. As he proceeded with his account the feelings 
of the crowd became more and more aroused; and when 
he closed with a description of Dolly’s death a general 
cry of denunciation was raised. 

Then up spoke Sanders to the people: “Friends and 
feller citizens, this is a case which needs keerful thought 
and treatment. It is a case which only men should de¬ 
cide, and I ask that all the women and children go back 
home and all the men of this company adjourn to the 
bridge over Honey Crick near by, that we can quietly 
give this matter all the attention it requires.” 

His request was heeded and soon some thirty or forty 
men were on the bridge, with Wiles seated on a log which 
had been placed in the middle of the structure. The men 
disposed themselves in any way they saw fit, some lean¬ 
ing against the bridge railing, others sitting on the floor 
with their legs hanging over the water, and others bring¬ 
ing logs or sticks upon which to sit. 

As this was likely to be mob law Sanders, and not 
Judge LeMonde, was elected chairman and the delibera¬ 
tions commenced at once. Sanders said: “Men, what 
have you got to say ag’inst the prisoner? Let any one 
speak that wants to.” 

William Hester, honest David Hester’s oldest son, was 
the first to respond: “We on the river bottom have en¬ 
dured this Wiles crowd a good while. We know they are 
a curse to this section. They steal our hosses and what¬ 
ever they can lay their hands on. They make ’licit whis¬ 
ky in the hills and knobs. They are lazy and shiftless, 


LYNCH LAW OR THE GOSPEL 


127 


and no count in general. They scare our women, and are 
a nuisance and pest all around. I say we oughter make 
an example of Wiles, the ringleader of the gang, and put 
him out of the way of killing any more hosses by making 
him stretch a rope from this bridge.’’ 

“You have listened to what Bill Hester has said. Has 
any other gentleman any remarks to make ? ’ ’ asked their 
chairman. 

Abner Hunt, a fiery little man, whose plantation joined 
that of David Hester, spoke in rapid tones, emphasizing 
his words with vigorous gesticulations: “I fully agree 
with what Bill has said. Most all the people living on 
these here bottoms are peaceable and law-abiding and it 
is too bad that a few desprit villians should keep the 
county in a state of terror and alarm. If there were some 
big rattle snakes in our midst, we would try to ketch and 
kill them; and these human rascals are worse than rat¬ 
tlers. My vote is to string him up quick.” 

“We want a free and full discussion of this case, and I 
wait to hear any one else speak,” said Sanders. 

Then Hans Schmidt, a large, fair-faced German, arose, 
and said: “Mine freunds, dis ist a wery serious matter, 
und we must consider it with much deliberation. Gott’s 
Book tells us to luv our enemies, und we should not show 
hate und refenge to any man. We all know Wiles is vun 
great rogue, und I would give much money to see heem 
out of the bottom; but I would not like to haf a hand in 
lynching heem. I tink it is better for the law to take its 
course and for us to deliver heem up to prison.” 

These words acted like sparks to gunpowder, and sev¬ 
eral in the crowd cried: “No! No!” “Hang him!” 
“Don’t let him escape!” A few others said they agreed 
with what (Schmidt had proposed. 


128 


THE KENTUCKY BANGER 


When quiet was restored, one more speaker was heard. 
His name was Damon Craig. He was a hill farmer who 
made a good living for himself and family by industry 
and economy on the thin soil above the river bottom. All 
highly respected him and his words had much weight: 
“Thur is al’ys danger in takin’ a boss thief to jail. Dey 
air slick by natur’ and der bizness makes ’em slicker. 
You’uns can’t trust sich a feller as Wiles ur Turner a 
minit. Ef you’uns put ’im in jail he mought ’scape, and 
aryhow we don’t know but sum smart lawyers might cl’ar 
’im ur git a light sentence for ’im. So I’m in favor uv 
riddin’ de kentry uv ’im right now, and I’ll be de fust to 
pull de rope.” 

This speech was received by nods of assent and cries of 
* 4 Good!” “Good!” “That’s the talk!” by many in the 
crowd. 

After Craig had spoken Sanders looked at Judge Le 
Monde and thus addressed him: “Judge, you are the most 
interested person in this company. You have lost two 
fine .hosses and been put to the most trouble. It is only 
right that we should hear from you before we take a vote. 
Would you like to say anything 

Upon this invitation Judge LeMonde arose from the 
log upon which he was sitting. His clothing was bespat¬ 
tered with mud and his face showed the struggle both 
physical and mental through which he had passed. But 
even with these limitations he appeared the typical judge. 
A serious but composed look was in'his eyes. It was with 
deep feeling that he addressed the group of determined 
men. 

“Neighbors and friends,” said lie, “many of you I have 
known from my youth, and I am glad to call you friends. 
I wish to thank you for the interest you have shown in 


LYNCH LAW OR THE GOSPEL 


123 


my welfare by aiding me in every possible way to regain 
my stolen property; and while my good Yelox is now far 
away from me, probably never to return, and my noble 
Dolly is buried by the roadside, you have helped to cap¬ 
ture the chief criminal in the affair. I do not wonder 
that this dastardly act has stung you to the quick and 
that your honest hearts cry out for justice to be visited 
upon the guilty. But you will pardon me if I differ from 
most of you as to how that justice should be administer¬ 
ed. Let us remember that the sovereign State of Ken¬ 
tucky has laws upon her statute books meting out just 
punishment for all crimes. She has suitable machinery 
for the execution of those laws—courts, judges, lawyers, 
police, jails, penitentiary—and it is the duty of all citi¬ 
zens to abide by the laws they have made. Therefore I 
cannot agree with your arguments nor justify your wish 
to take the law into your own hands. My voice is, let the 
miserable culprit be taken to the county jail, be tried be¬ 
fore the court and receive his punishment in a lawful 
manner. ’ 9 

Judge LeMonde’s speech made a visible impression on 
the men and possibly his advice would have been heeded 
had not Sanders, the chairman, spoken. These were his 
words: “With all respect to the Judge’s remarks I think 
his premises are wrong. We have an unwritten law in 
Kentucky that hoss thieves should be put out of the world 
as soon as they are caught and proved guilty. It saves 
time, danger of escape, and expense to the State. This 
is a clear case for Wiles was caught in the very act, and 
we are quite sure this is not his first offense. My opinion 
is the county should be rid of such trash, and the sooner 
the better. We will now vote on the case. All in favor 
of hanging Sam Wiles at this time for hoss stealing raise 


130 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


your hands.’’ Thirty hands were lifted up. ‘‘All op¬ 
posed raise your hands.” Five put up their hands and a 
few refused to vote. 

In spite of protests made by Judge LeMonde and oth¬ 
ers, preparations for the tragic act were quickly made. A 
man had cut a clothesline in his yard and had brought it 
to the bridge. 

Hiram Sanders spoke quickly and with a tone of au¬ 
thority: “Damon Craig, take this rope, tie a small stone 
to one end, and throw it over that big limb of the tall 
walnut tree standing by the crick.” 

Damon Craig instantly obeyed, and with one attempt 
the rope was thrown over and both ends were near the 
ground. It was the work of only a minute or two to bring 
the miserable prisoner under the limb and to adjust the 
rope in the form of a hangman’s knot around his neck. 

When this was done Sanders said: “Wiles, we don’t 
•want to send you out of this world without giving you a 
chance for preparation; so if you want to pray or to send 
any message to your dad or mam, we’ll wait for you.” 

Wiles was a man not without physical courage, and in 
this trying hour his grit did not fail him. He cast one 
hurried glance around, as though looking for some allies 
to aid him, but none were in sight. He gazed into the 
faces of those standing near him to see if there were any 
relenting; but the stern and determined looks of most of 
these men showed him it was useless to expect mercy from 
them. All hope seemed gone. Wiles, apparently wish¬ 
ing more to show a brave front to man than a humble and 
contrite spirit to God, simply said: “I’ve nuthin* to say 
to de likes uv you’uns; only I defy ye to do yer wu’st.” 

“Haul away!” cried Sanders, and a dozen men seizing 
the rope, began pulling it, tightening the noose around 


LYNCH LAW OR THE GOSPEL 


131 


Wiles’ neck; but before they bad lifted the body free from 
the ground a loud beating of horses’ hoofs was heard in 
the direction of Bridgewater. Instinctively the men ceas¬ 
ed from their work to look down the road. Perhaps there 
was a tremor of fear and condemnation in their hearts. 
We believe that every man who purposes in his heart to 
help lynch one of his fellow men, if he allows reason and 
conscience half a chance to be heard, will not engage in 
;the attempt. 

Presently two men came in sight, riding as though their 
lives depended upon their haste. They were Jasper Very 
and John Larkin, who had heard of the proposed lynch¬ 
ing. The riders spurred their horses across the bridge 
and flung themselves from their saddles, but not before 
Jasper Very had shouted in his loudest voice: “Men, I 
call upon you in the name of God to stop this wicked act.” 
Then, rushing up to the condemned man, who was already 
gasping for breath, he pulled the rope from over the limb 
sufficiently to loosen the knot around Wiles’ neck. The 
lynchers were too much surprised to resist. 

While John Larkin held the weakened prisoner Jasper 
Very removed the rope from his neck, and the two preach¬ 
ers helped Wiles to a seat on the bridge. Here Very stood 
over him as though he were his guardian angel. His eyes 
blazed with a fire never seen in them before. His gigan¬ 
tic form seemed to swell to larger proportions. He look¬ 
ed the incarnation of power tempered with pity. Very 
spoke with his heart hot within him: “Men of Kentucky, 
I am ashamed of your actions this day. What you pur¬ 
pose doing is a stain upon our State* It is a crime the 
memory of which, if committed, you will not be able to 
hide from your minds till life’s last hour. Do you not 
know that two sins can never make an act right? How 


132 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


do you dare to hurry this man into the presence of his 
Maker unprepared? How can you meet such a sin at the 
judgment day? There are the courts. Let Sam Wiles be 
tried in them. You are well aware that our laws are very 
severe against horse-stealing, and when brought to the 
bar of justice the prisoner will suffer the full penalty of 
his deeds. But there is a higher law than those in our 
criminal courts. It is God’s law, given to the children of 
men amid the thunders of Mount Sinai when the whole 
mountain was black with a thick cloud of smoke, w^hich 
rolled away as from a great furnace into the sky. God 
descended in fire upon the mount. Thunders roared, 
lightnings flashed, and the peaks trembled to their foun¬ 
dations. The trumpets sounded louder and louder and 
the awful voice of almighty God * shook the earth.’ What 
were the commandments there given? One of them was: 
‘Thou shalt not kill.’ Do not think that lynch law is not 
murder. It is murder of a very deplorable kind; for the 
perpetrators of the deed are not one but many, so that 
many are guilty of shedding their brother’s blood. In 
the name of Him whose I am and whom I serve as a hum¬ 
ble ambassador, I call upon you to desist from this pro¬ 
posed crime, conceived in passion and carried forward 
under great excitement. Listen to the voice of reason, 
and your consciences will approve your course.” 

What the majesty of the law could not do under the 
words of the honored Judge, the power of the gospel 
accomplished through the agency of the backwoods 
preacher. 

Hiram Sanders was the first to yield. “Neighbors,” he 
said, “what the preacher spoke is true. I think we will 
sleep sounder tonight if we spare the prisoner, though he 
is a sneaking, onery critter. But let the law take its 


LYNCH LAW OB THE GOSPEL 


133 


course. We must see that he is securely guarded and 
lodged in jail without a mishap.” 

Under a strong guard Wiles was taken up the river 
road to be placed in the county jail. The planters and 
others returned to their usual work, while Judge Le- 
Monde and his company rode home at their leisure.' 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


Apple Blossoms. 

M AY DAY had come in Kentucky, and all the air was 
sweet with the odor of blossoms. Jasper Very had 
made an afternoon call at Judge LeMonde’s mansion; and 
the day being so charming he had invited Miss Viola to 
walk with him to the apple orchard which was in full 
bloom. The two walked down the gentle hill on which the 
house was built and proceeded along a private road lead¬ 
ing north toward the knob. They passed by tilled fields in 
.which green things were peeping through the soil. They 
skirted a pasture where horses and cows were grazing in 
perfect content. Then they went through a wide gate¬ 
way and at once came into the apple orchard. 

The apple blossom was Jasper’s favorite flower. He 
thought an apple tree in bloom was the nearest approach 
to Eden’s tree of life of any sight on earth. And to be¬ 
hold scores of these trees filled him with such strange, 
happy feelings that it was difficult for him to control his 
emotions. 

As they walked up the gradual slope which was the be¬ 
ginning of the swell of the knob they gazed upon many 
trees so thick with blossoms that they looked like gigan¬ 
tic bouquets. Under one of these trees they sat down 
upon a rustic seat and looked upon the myriads of blos¬ 
soms above and around them. The mystic scene—radiant 
sunshine, smiling landscape, balmy, odorous air, humming 
134 


APPLE BLOSSOMS 


135 


of bees, and pyramids of apple blossoms—increased the 
preacher’s rapturous love of nature, God’s revelation of 
his glory, and by a reasonable transition his heart beat 
with a warm, tender, and holy affection for the beautiful 
girl at his side. Her mind also was open to the beauties 
of the scene, and a thousand voices were calling her to sip 
the magic waters of love. She removed her broad hat 
and, letting it fall by her side, held it there with careless 
grace by one of its strings. Her golden hair added an ex¬ 
quisite touch to the picture. 

Jasper was the first to speak: 4 ‘Miss Viola, what is so 
beautiful as an apple tree in bloom? Our heavenly Fa¬ 
ther seems to have mixed the elements of nature to make 
this blossom with a skill not seen elsewhere. It combines 
the pure whiteness of ihe plum or cherry with the delicate 
color of the pink or rose. How beautiful is the shading I 
How the pink tint improves the white and the white the 
pink! Every separate blossom is fit to adorn the head 
of a fairy; and when you look upon this wilderness of 
bloom, you feel that the floral world can go no farther 
with its gift of beauty. As I sit under this bower of love¬ 
liness I am inclined to adapt the poet’s words: 

‘My willing soul would stay 
In such a place as this, 

And sit and sing herself away 
To everlasting bliss.’ ” 

“I am not surprised,” said Viola, “that you are enrap¬ 
tured with this scene. To my mind the perfection of out- 
of-doors life is to be among the apple blossoms, to feast 
one’s eyes upon their delicate colors, and to inhale their 
sweet odor. The Hesperides of the ancients must have 


136 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


had a pleasant task in guarding the golden apples which 
Terra gave to Juno as a wedding gift.” 

“Yes,” remarked Jasper; “and not only has mythology 
used this fruit to embellish the joy and sacredness of the 
marriage rite, but the Holy Bible makes the apple tree a 
type of the lover and of love; for we read: ‘As the apple 
tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among 
the sons.’ And, ‘Comfort me with apples/ Such pic¬ 
tures as these suggest the purest affection. May I not 
say they promote love?” 

Viola was not willing to give a direct answer to his 
question, so she artfully changed the subject, saying: 
“The sun will soon descend behind the forest trees, and 
we must leave the apple blossoms and their lessons and 
betake ourselves to the house.” 

She placed her hat upon her head and arose to go. The 
preacher also arose, thinking to himself: “I wish I could 
change the apple blossoms into orange blossoms and see 
them crowning her golden hair.” 

They had walked along the farm road, and had nearly 
reached the garden gate when they saw the slave Mose 
running rapidly toward the house. They were just as¬ 
cending the hill when the black man, getting within 
speaking distance, cried out: “Miss Vila, Ah jist cum 
frum town, an’ what do yo’ ’spose? Sam Wiles hah’ 
’scaped frum jail He got out las’ night. Sumhow he 
got a file an’ cut two ba’s out’n his cell winder an’ crep’ 
through. In sum way he dim’ ober de yawd fence an’ 
got cl’ar ’way. De shelf an’ constables is now chasin’ 
Tm an’ callin’ on all who can to help run ’im down. Ah’s 
gwine to hurry to de house to tell Mas’r LeMonde uv de 
’scape.” 


APPLE BLOSSOMS 


137 


With this remark Mose ran on, his white eyeballs roll¬ 
ing in his excitement and his head bobbing from one side 
to the other. 

In a few minutes Viola and Jasper were with Judge 
LeMonde and the rest of the house. The Judge was 
questioning his faithful servant: “Did the officers think 
he had any help in escaping?” 

“Yessar, sum one mus’ V sperited dat file inter de jail, 
an’ ob cou’se no ossifer would ’a dun it.” 

“Who do they think was his helper?” 

“Zibe Turner. Two er free in de town see ’im sneakin’ 
roun’, but befo’ dey could grab ’im he war gone. He 
seems to be in league wif de debil, an’ can become divis¬ 
ible when he wants ter.” 

“But how could the monster dwarf get the file to him?” 

“It am ’sposed he had a secret talk wif de colored cook, 
Dinah, an’ sum way cum it ober her—bewitched her 
mor’n likely ur gib ’er a big lot ob money—an’ she passed 
de file in sum ob Wiles’ food, an’ he cut his way out.” 

“But his cell was in the second story, and how did he 
reach the ground?” 

“He made a rope ob de bedclothes an’ clum down dem. 
Dey thinks he frew de same rope ober de w T all, an’ Turner 
held de outer end while Wiles clum to de top; den he 
could easy drap to de bottom. Ah ’spects dey bof cl’ar 
out togedder, an’ by dis time air way back on de knobs 
safe an’ sound.” 

Judge LeMonde said: “We must do all we can to re¬ 
capture Wiles and arrest Turner, for they are desperate 
men, and will stop at nothing to secure their own ends. 
However, I am afraid it will be almost impossible to take 
them if they have reached the fastnesses of the hills. 
They can hide in caves, ravines, and forests, and, being so 


138 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


well acquainted with the region, they can well-nigh defy 
pursuit.’ ’ 

The Judge’s opinion was sound; for after the officers 
and citizens had hunted them for days with the aid of 
bloodhounds, and found them not, the effort was aban¬ 
doned. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A Proposal Without Words. 

TT was on a Tuesday afternoon in the latter part of 

June when a note was presented to Jasper Very by a 
farmer living near his boarding place who had been quite 
a distance up river. 

The note read as follows: 

Silver Springs Camp Ground, June 23, 18—. 
The Rev. Jasper Very, 

Dear Mr. Very:—The Silver Springs Camp Meeting 
which began a few days ago is having fine success. It is 
well attended and many are beginning the Chirstian life. 

I had planned to make Thursday the great day of the 
feast; but Rev. Enoch Foy, who was to preach that even¬ 
ing, is sick and sends word he cannot come. In my ex¬ 
tremity I turn to you and ask you to fill the gap without 
fail. 

Knowing how willing you always are to help a brother 
minister in need, I shall look for you without expecting a 
reply to this note. Please do not disappoint us. I send 
this message by Mr. John Boley, who returns to your 
neighborhood today. 

Sincerely yours in the Master’s work, 

Ezra Thompson. 


139 


140 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


Jasper Very prayerfully considered the invitation and, 
as his engagements permitted him to accommodate his 
good friend Thompson, he decided to preach at the camp 
meeting. He little dreamed that all his future life was to 
be colored by that simple note. So often men’s destinies 
turn upon apparently trivial events. 

As the journey was long Jasper decided it would be 
pleasant to have a few of his friends accompany him. So 
he betook himself to Judge LeMonde’s house and asked 
the Judge and his wife to make two of the party, but they 
had matters which forbade their going. He then spoke 
to Viola and George and requested them to go. 

Early Thursday morning Jasper Very rang the doorbell 
at “ Mount Pisgah.” Miss Viola herself answered the 
bell and led the preacher into the drawing room. She 
gave him this information: “George is to drive six of us 
to the camp meeting in our three-seated carriage. Miss 
Stella Nebeker will sit with George; on the middle seat 
my cousin, Miss Alice LeMonde, and Miss Bertha Nebe¬ 
ker, Stella’s sister; and they have appointed you and me 
to occupy the third seat. The carriage will be driven up 
presently and we have a surprise for you; but do not get 
too excited.” 

The preacher could not imagine what the surprise was, 
but he had to possess his soul in patience. He had not to 
wait long for he presently heard the sound of wheels. He 
and Viola stepped out on the piazza. 

What did he see? Reader, can you guess? No. He 
saw Velox. The noble horse was on the near side of the 
carriage and Prince on the off side. 

Very cried out: “Of all things, if there isn’t Velox! 
George, you naughty boy, why didn’t you tell me? Where 
did you find him?” 


A PROPOSAL WITHOUT WORDS 


141 


The preacher ran to the splendid creature, proud, sleek 
and glossy as ever, and put his arm over his neck, and 
stroked and patted his face. “George you must tell me 
all about the way you succeeded in getting your horse 
back to the plantation.” 

George said: “Hold your horses, pastor, and when we 
are speeding in the carriage I will the tale relate. ’ ’ 

The six were soon seated in the vehicle. George spoke 
to the willing horses and they were off, through the plan¬ 
tation grounds, along the county road to the river high¬ 
way up which they were to travel twenty miles. It was a 
charming day in June and the road now was in fine con¬ 
dition. A gentle shower the night before had laid the 
dust land brightened the face of nature. The leaves on 
the stately forest trees were full grown and in perfection. 
The river to their right sparkled in the bright sunlight. 

Presently George began his tale for the special benefit 
of the preacher, the rest having heard it in more or less 
detail: 

“A few days ago I went down to Paducah to sell a 
large part of our abundant bay crop. I went to the big 
warehouse of Youtsey and Fry on one of the principal 
streets and was talking to Mr. Sydney Youtsey on the 
sidewalk, when I saw a splendid carriage drawn by two 
fine bay horses coming along the street. A Sambo, black 
as the ace of spades, was driving with a high sense of his 
importance; and in fact he handled the reins and whip 
like a professional. In the back seat reclined a portly 
gentleman, dressed in faultless style, and by his side his 
wife of ample proportions, also garbed in the height of 
fashion. 

“While the turnout was some distance away I was sure 
that the near horse was Yelox. As luck would have it 


142 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


the man in the carriage had some business with Youtsey 
and Fry land ordered Sambo to drive up to the curb. 
Greatly excited I cried out to Sydney Youtsey: ‘That bay 
on the left is my Yelox. I hastened to the side of the car¬ 
riage, and, lifting my hat, said to the man: ‘Excuse me, 
sir, but that horse standing here next to the sidewalk is 
my animal, named Yelox. He was stolen from my fa¬ 
ther’s barn up country a few weeks ago by two desperate 
thieves. My name is George LeMonde, son of Judge 
William LeMonde, of ‘Mount Pisgah.’ ” 

“The gentleman addressed expressed great surprise at 
this announcement, saying: 

“ ‘This is a very strange statement. For a long time 
I wanted a mate for my bay horse Hamlet and instructed 
my groom to visit the livery stables and other places 
where horses are kept for sale. He tried for weeks to 
find a suitable match, but without success. At last, going 
to one of the largest and most reputable stables in Pa¬ 
ducah, he saw this animal you claim, and paying a large 
price for the same, brought him to my plantation just out¬ 
side of the city.’ 

“ ‘Probably,’ I said, ‘the man who brought Yelox to the 
city gave him into the hands of a party who may have 
sold him to an honest and upright stable keeper from 
whom you bought the horse.’ 

“ ‘But how do I know your story is true, that you own 
this horse?’ the planter asked. 

“I told him if his servant would drive the carriage into 
the warehouse and unharness the near horse, that I would 
convince him thiat he was my animal. 

“The planter consented, and soon Yelox was standing 
before us entirely free from his harness. I moved away 
from him about ten feet. Stretching out my right hand 


A PROPOSAL WITHOUT WORDS 


143 


open toward him, I said in ia quiet tone of voice: ‘Come 
Velox, come to your master. ’ Instantly the horse walked 
up to me and touched by hand with his lips. I put my 
soft felt hat on my head, tand spoke to the horse again: 
‘Come, Yelox, and lift my hat off my head/ He walked 
up to me the second time and, seizing my hat between his 
teeth, gently raised it from my head. 

“This not only surprised the planter and the rest, but 
was satisfactory proof to him that the bay was my horse. 

“Mr. Harcourt, for that was the planter’s name, re¬ 
marked: ‘These tricks seem to demonstrate that what you 
claim is true, but I paid a fancy price for this animal, 
$500, and I do not feel like losing such a sum/ 

“ ‘Neither shall you lose it, sir,’ said I. ‘This very day 
I will write you a check for the amount, if you will give 
my Yelox to me/ 

“To this Mr. Harcourt agreed. The pair were driven 
back to his plantation, and that afternoon Sambo brought 
him to me. I handed him the check to give to his master. 
Going to a store near by I bought a saddle and bridle and, 
putting them on Yelox, I mounted him and rode him back 
to ‘Mount Pisgah.’ And here he is, sound as ever,” and 
George snapped the whip over the trotting pair so that 
they increased their speed 1 a bit. 

The day was bright and balmy, the steeds were willing, 
and they made good progress. *But the drive was long 
and it was late dinner time when they arrived on the camp 
ground. They were welcomed by Ezra Thompson and 
others and, after resting a short time and partaking of a 
substantial meal for which their long ride had prepared 
them, they were ready for the afternoon services. These 
were of the old camp meeting order, and blessed were the 
results. An earnest preacher handled the Word of God 



144 


THE KENTUCKY HANGER 


skillfully, and it became the sword of the Spirit which 
cut through skepticism, indifference, and sin, land pierced 
the consciences of many. A blessed altar service closed 
the meeting. 

Jasper Very ate only a light supper. Following his 
usual custom he went into the "woods to pray, to meditate, 
and to get his sermon into -order for the evening. When 
he came back those who saw him were struck with his 
look. It was something like that of Moses when he came 
down from the mount. His face seemed to shine with the 
light of God. Jasper’s natural mein was bold, command¬ 
ing, and aggressive, so that some thought him domineer¬ 
ing and severe; but now his manner was full of humility 
and peace. He was like a man who had seen a vision of 
eternal love; his soul was filled with a deep sympathy for 
sinful men and a great yearning to turn them from the 
error of their ways. Tonight the fighter was gone, and 
the pleader took his place. 

Before he preached the congregation sang that appeal¬ 
ing hymn: 

"Show pity, Lord; 0 Lord, forgive.” 

Viola LeMonde’s confidence as a singer had increased with 
her recent attempts, and tonight her sweet, pure soprano 
voice rose clear and strong as she sang with the assembled 
multitude. Jasper Very heard her voice, and it seemed 
to him sweeter than the note of an angel, and it moved 
him one step higher in his grand preparation to speak his 
Master’s word. While the eyes of (all were fastened up¬ 
on him he opened the Bible and read the text: ‘ ‘ The Spirit 
and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, 
Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever 
will, let him take the water of life freely.” 


A PROPOSAL WITHOUT WORDS 


145 


It is impossible for any report to do justice to that ser¬ 
mon. An abstract of it has come down to us; but it is 
little more than a skeleton, lacking the flesh and blood 
and abounding life of the original. 

Jasper began by describing the apostle John’s impris¬ 
onment on the Isle of Patmos. There he was in the (Spirit 
on the Lord’s day when he heard a voice saying unto him: 
“Write.” John took the flaming pen of inspiration and 
wrote those wonderful scenes found in the book of Rev¬ 
elation. But before writing his final “Amen” he gives 
one liast, universal, gracious invitation to all men to come 
to the water of life and be saved. With marvelous unc¬ 
tion and power Jasper spoke of the invitation coming 
from God’s Spirit and from his Church, the bride, to all 
thirsty souls: “Whosoever will, let him take the water of 
life freely.” At this place the preacher reached the cli¬ 
max of his theme. With the full power of his noble voice 
he brushed away all artificial distinctions (among men, 
crying out that God is no respecter of persons, but that 
all men are invited to come to him for salvation. In ear¬ 
nest tones he besought his hearers to know that they are 
all included in the great invitation; the blacks ias well as 
the whites, the poor farmer on the hills as well as the rich 
planter in the valley, the outcasts from society, such as 
moonshiners, horse thieves and gamblers, equally with 
the moral citizen who yet needed a personal deliverance 
from sin. All that is required is the will to come. 

At last his emotions almost overcame him. Like his 
Master weeping over Jerusalem, this strong man wept be¬ 
fore the people. Throwing into his voice much tender¬ 
ness, sympathy, love, and persuasion, he called upon them 
to come forward, kneel in the straw, and s.eek a merciful 
Savior’s pardon. His appeal was with many most effec- 


146 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


tive; and when the congregation arose and started a gos¬ 
pel hymn, scores crowded to the altar seeking forgive¬ 
ness and peace. 

For an hour Jasper, Viola, and the rest who had come 
from "Mount Pisgah” labored with the penitents at the 
altar. At half past nine o’clock, long before the service 
closed, they started for home. They were all lifted to a 
high plane of spiritual experience, and for some time each 
was busy with his or her own thoughts and few words 
were spoken. The moon had risen and was throwing her 
mild light through the thick trees as best she could. Grad¬ 
ually George LeMonde and the three girls got into a more 
talkative and merry mood. Now and then a happy laugh 
floated through the forest, and was heard by the wakeful 
owl as he sat perched on some high branch, or with rush 
of wings flew through the air seeking his prey. They 
spoke of the camp meeting and the commoner events of 
every day life, occasionally /asking the opinion of Jasper 
and Viola concerning this or that event or notion. But 
George on the front seat was too much occupied with 
guiding the horses through the uncertain light and with 
the chat of the fair girl at his side to pay much attention 
to those in the rear seats, and the two girls in the middle 
naturally kept their eyes and ears turned forward. This 
left Jasper and Viola in a measure to themselves. They 
spoke occasionally to each other, but their words were 
fewer than their thoughts. 

Jasper’s heart in the meeting had been aflame with love 
to God and his fellowman, and what better soil than that 
can there be for a man’s love for a pure and beautiful 
woman to spring and grow ? All the wealth of his great 
nature was even then being given to the woman at his 
side, and he felt the hour hiad come to make that love 


A PROPOSAL WITHOUT WORDS 


147 


known. And Viola was ready to receive it as a most pre¬ 
cious gift and in return to offer a yet richer treasure, a 
woman’s unsullied affection. 

In that carriage was about to take place the world’s 
most wondrous mystery—two lives, which for months had 
been drawn together more and more strongly by a power 
which no man can understand, at last meeting and blend¬ 
ing in a union which God in heaven makes and which 
eternity cannot sever. 

Jasper did not need words to express his love nor Viola 
to receive it. They were more than half way home wdien 
Jasper moved his large, honest, chivalrous right hand 
over to Viola and took her small, beautiful hand in his. 
She did not resist the act, but let her little hand lie in his 
broad palm. That was all. Their betrothal was as silent 
as the meeting of God and a human soul. Words were 
not needed. They seemed out of place. They would have 
appeared almost a profanation. In fact they could not 
then have been spoken. The light carriage robe covered 
those two hands, and the laughing girls in the next seat 
did not suspect that just behind them an engagement 
without words was taking place. What joys, what sor¬ 
rows, what tragedies and comedies occur so near us that 
we can almost touch them with our fingers, «and yet we are 
unconscious of their existence? 

So they rode along by the quiet river. Sometimes the 
Stream was hidden by high and mighty trees and willows 
growing by its bank; at other times they saw the placid 
waters, and the moonbeams shining upon it making a 
pathway of silver light. 

At last the horses turned into the great gateway, the 
carriage wheels crunched upon the graveled drive, and 
soon they were before Viola’s home. It wias very late, af- 


148 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


ter midnight. George took his team to the barn, for he 
would not call up Mose at that time of night. Alice Le- 
Monde and her two girl friends at once went upstairs. 

Viola opened the drawing-room door, and she and Jas¬ 
per entered. They stood by the piano, leaning against it. 
She looked up into his face with a happy smile in her deep 
blue eyes and a tender flush in her pink cheeks. Jasper, 
gazing down upon her with inexpressible feelings of rev¬ 
erence and love, imprinted a kiss upon her pure brow, 
thus sealing their unspoken troth. They walked together 
to the broad staircase where they parted bidding each 
other good-night. 


CHAPTER XX. 


Kidnaped. 

'T'HE HOUR was late the next morning when Jasper 
i Very awoke from a refreshing sleep. At first the in¬ 
cidents of the past night did not arrange themselves in 
proper order before his mind, but soon the succession of 
events and their meaning became clear. He arose, dress¬ 
ed, attended to his ablutions and devotions, and sat down 
to think. This was the tenor of his thoughts: “What a 
fortunate being I am to have gained the love of this true 
and noble woman. I feel myself unworthy of such affec¬ 
tion and confidence. A new idea of God has come to me. 
He gives himself for those whom he loves. And in a new 
sense I am willing to sacrifice my all for her whom I love. 
Heretofore I have looked to my own interests as to food, 
clothing, lodging, and other things. Perhaps I have been 
a bit selfish. Now I shall delight also to plan for her 
well-being and happiness. When the marriage rite is 
said, how gladly shall I promise to ‘love, comfort, and 
keep her in sickness and in health, to bestow upon her my 
worldly goods, and to keep her only unto myself. ’ Jas¬ 
per, a precious treasure has been intrusted to your keep¬ 
ing, a treasure the most valuable on earth, and you must 
be careful to keep it from all harm.” 

At this moment his soliloquy was interrupted by a 
knock at the door, and Nora’s announcement: “Please, 
sur, breakfast is waitin’ fer yo’ in de dinin’ room.” 

149 


150 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


“Thank you, Nora, I shall be down presently.” And he 
descended the stairs without loss of time. 

You ask, reader, what were the thoughts of Miss Viola 
when she awoke from her deep sleep ? As the writer is a 
man he cannot tell. No man can sound the depths of a 
woman's heart. She only can understand her motives, 
her desires, her modes of thinking, her varying moods. 
She holds the key to the inner chambers of her nature, 
and no masculine hand can seize that key and unlock 
those apartments. 

However, we believe we are able to fathom some of the 
ideas which passed through our heroine's mind that 
bright morning. We can take it for granted that she was 
very happy; that the future looked very promising, 
though she was impressed by the responsibility of becom¬ 
ing a minister’s wife. 

When Jasper Very descended the stairs and entered the 
dining room he found Viola and her mother awaiting him, 
the rest having eaten some time before. The ladies cor¬ 
dially greeted their guest, and the meal was partaken of 
with a seasoning of pleasant conversation. 

After breakfast the twain went into the drawing room, 
and there the stalwart preacher took his own darling into 
his arms, and for the first time their lips met in a raptur¬ 
ous kiss. They sat side by side on the beautifully uphol¬ 
stered sofa, and looked the splendid couple they were. 

If the night before silence was golden surely this morn¬ 
ing speech was silver. Jasper said: “Viola, my dear, I 
am giving a new meaning to that Scripture passage: ‘This 
is my commandment, that ye love one another.’ ” “And 
I,” replied Viola, “feel like expressing as my sentiment 
those words in the Song or Songs: ‘My beloved is mine, 
and I am his.’ ” “Well,” said the parson, ‘ J we must seal 


KIDNAPED 


151 


that ownership with another kiss.” It was readily given 
and received, and we are afraid several more followed to 
keep the first company. 

Then they fell to talking about the future: how they 
hoped some day to establish a home of their own; how 
they would walk hand in hand through life bearing its 
burdens, and meeting the exacting duties of the ministry 
with mutual helpfulness. 

Thus they conversed for a long time on the new and 
opening vistas of life. At length Viola said: ‘‘Jasper 
dear, let us take a walk this fine morning toward the great 
knob, and enjoy together the beauties of nature. It seems 
as though nature itself would delight to shower its bless¬ 
ing upon us.” 

Jasper was willing, and they went las before to the ap¬ 
ple orchard, but instead of stopping there they climbed 
the ascent to the foot of the knob. Then they entered the 
woods which covered the great elevation from near its 
base to the top. They emerged into a zigzag foot-path, 
difficult to follow, and climbed up and up. Many times 
the strong arm of Jasper had to help the maiden at his 
side to surmount steep and bush-entangled places. 

At last after much exertion they reached the top of the 
knob, where they beheld a wide-extended view. Below 
them lay Judge LeMonde’s broad plantation and many 
others on the right hand and on the left. Beyond these 
ran the beautiful river through the landscape like a ribbon 
of silver, and they saw in the far distance valleys and 
hills and majestic knobs, making altogether a picture of 
surpassing loveliness. 

The man and the woman were enchanted with the scene 
and Jasper, full of deep emotions, cried out: “Bless the 
Lord, 0 my soul: (and all that is within me, bless his holy 


152 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


name. He watereth the hills from his chambers: the 
earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth 
the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service 
of man.” 

Viola exclaimed: “My father’s plantation is called 
‘Mount Pisgah,’ and this view reminds me of that other 
scene Moses saw on his ‘Mount Pisgah.’ ” 

They sat under one of the great forest trees crowning 
the brow of the knob and feasted their eyes on the near 
and the distant prospect. They heard the birds singing 
in the trees, and saw the saucy squirrels running up and 
down the hickory and other trees. Jasper spoke of his 
present engagements, saying on that afternoon he must 
visit a family down the river, and the next day he had an 
appointment to begin a two days’ meeting in a distant 
township of the county. 

Viola told of her plans. She intended tomorrow morn¬ 
ing to have Mose drive her to a number of the families at¬ 
tending the mission school. (She wished to become better 
acquainted with them, to show a friendly interest iu their 
welfare, and to teach the boys and girls some further 
rudiments of knewledge, land tell them a number of in¬ 
teresting Bible stories. 

This knowledge gave Jasper much concern, and he 
said: “My dear Viola, I have now even more than a pas¬ 
tor’s regard for your safety and welfare. Are you not 
afraid to travel those lonely hills without any protector 
save Mose? While the mission school gradually is im¬ 
proving the moral tone of that region, you know there 
are some depraved and desperate persons living about 
there who would not hesitate to steal your horses, or your 
purse, or commit other crimes, if it were to their seeming 
advantage to do so?” 


KIDNAPED 


153 


“Yes, I know that, dear Jasper, but hitherto the Lord 
has protected me, and I believe I can trust him to hold 
me safely in the hollow of his almighty hand. If I am 
called to suffer in his cause, I am willing. I have no fear 
of physical violence, and I am sure duty calls me to that 
settlement tomorrow.’’ 

“Well, my beloved, may heaven still safeguard you, 
and may you continue to be a blessing to that community 
which needs reformation, education and the gospel so 
much.” 

Viola spoke: “It is getting near dinner time, and we 
must not be late for that meal as we were for breakfast.” 
With that they arose, and proceeded down the knob and 
on to the mansion. 

After dinner Jasper Very bade them all a cordial good- 
by, and proceeded on his errand of mercy to a family who 
needed his ministrations. 

Early the next morning Viola, seated in her phaeton 
with faithful Mose holding the reins over Prince and 
Bess, started to the mission school settlement. She had 
taken with her some things which would interest the chil¬ 
dren—candy for the little ones and some bright books for 
those older. The distance was considerable, but at last 
they arrived at the cabin of Mart Spink, where they were 
cordially received. 

Viola stepped down from the carriage and, entering the 
house, soon had the whole family around her. Their 
minds seemed famished for knowledge. She first opened 
a paper bag and passed several pieces of candy to the 
younger children, Elmira, Robert and Jonathan. She of¬ 
fered the bag to the parents and to Susanna, and they 
helped themselves sparingly. She then brought out from 
her satchel a nicely bound copy of Aesop’s Fables, and 


154 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


presented the book to Susanna. The girl was both sur¬ 
prised and pleased. Opening her wonderful eyes wide, 
she thanked her teacher in few words. Viola also gave 
the family some of the simpler school books used in the 
public schools and a few volumes of a religious nature. 
After a further half hour spent in pleasant conversation 
Viola left the cabin, and directed Mose to drive to the 
Sneath home. 

She found Harrop Sneath sitting under the shade of a 
tree about as lazy and contented as ever. He was smok¬ 
ing tobacco contained in a corncob pipe. But Viola no¬ 
ticed a decided improvement in the cabin. It was clean¬ 
er than when she first saw it, and had a bit more of fur¬ 
niture in it. All the children showed the benefit they had 
received from attending ihe mission school. Jemima, the 
oldest daughter, revealed the greatest improvement. Her 
eye was brighter, her dress cleaner and better fitting, and 
her demeanor showed more intelligence and self-posses¬ 
sion. 

Viola distributed sweets and books to this family much 
as she had done to the other, and they were gladly receiv¬ 
ed. She led the talk to things which would interest their 
minds—prospects for good crops, the sewing circle recent¬ 
ly organized for women and girls, the picnic which the 
mission school expected soon to have. 

She told them several thrilling Bible stories about Da¬ 
vid slaying Goliath, Daniel in the lions’ den, the three 
Hebrew children. 

It was nearing dinner time and the mother invited Vi¬ 
ola to partake of their plain fare. She said: 4 ‘You air 
u’st to all de good tings money can buy. We’uns cayn’t 
gibe you much, but sich as we’uns hab you *air welcome 
to.” 


KIDNAPED 


155 


Viola replied: “I am really greatly obliged to you, Mrs. 
Sneath, for your kind invitation, and will gladly dine 
with you today. It is not so much the amount or kind of 
food one is given but the spirit in which it is given that 
counts/ ’ 

“ Jist so,” said Mrs. Sneath, “so we’uns’U all set down 
soon to corn pone and pork. Please ask your nigger to 
unhitch his hosses and put ’em in de bawn. He’ll find 
sum hay der for ’em. De nigger shall hab sum dinner 
too.” 

Viola putting aside any punctilious feelings she had, 
partook of the homely meal with whiat grace and relish 
she could command, and thanking them all for their kind¬ 
ness, bade them good-by. 

Viola visited a number of other families in the after¬ 
noon, and toward the evening of the long summer day in¬ 
structed her servant to turn the horses toward home. 
They were not far from the cabin of the monster dwarf, 
Zibe Turner. A strange feeling of fear and apprehension 
sprang up within her. Was it caused by her nearness to 
the home of this wicked man, or by a premonition of 
danger ? 

They were passing through one of the densest parts of 
the great forest. The sun was yet some distance above 
the horizon, but his slanting rays could throw only a dim 
light through that mass of wood and foliage. 

Suddenly two men sprang from behind high bushes by 
the roadside. They had black cloth masks over their 
faces. Holes were cut in the masks through which the 
bandits could see. One man was tall and broad. The 
other was short and thickset. The shorter man leaped to 
the horses’ heads and, seizing the reins, stopped their 
progress. The other stepped to the side of the phaeton, 


156 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


and said in a voice he tried to disguise: “Lady, we’uns da 
not mean to harm you, but you must cum wid us.” 

Viola, though dreadfully frightened, straightened her¬ 
self up in the carriage, and replied: “What do you men 
mean by stopping a carriage on the highway, and thus dis¬ 
turbing peaceable citizens? I call upon you to go, let go 
the reins of my horses, and allow my servant to drive me 
home.” 

“Hat is fur from our wish,” said the desperado, “and 
if you won’t walk away quietly wif us, w T e’uns will have 
to tote you away.” 

With this the highwayman (who was no other than 
Sam Wiles) jumped into the vehicle, and seizing the 
young woman around the waist, was dragging her forci¬ 
bly to the ground. Viola could make no successful resis¬ 
tance in the grasp of this powerful man, but he met resis¬ 
tance where he little expected it. The slave held the 
buggy whip in his hand, and hastily reversing his hold on 
the whip, brought the butt end of it down with much 
force on the miscreant’s head. Wiles was half stunned by 
the blow, but he would not release his hold on Viola, and 
cursed the black with dreadful oaths. 

But it was the work only of a second for the terrible 
dwarf, Zibe Turner, to spring to the front of the carriage, 
and grabbing Mose in his sinuous (arms, he drew him to 
the earth, then struck him a terrific blow on his head, and 
threw him to the ground. What the blow might not have 
done (for a negro’s skull is very thick) the fall accom¬ 
plished; for when he fell Mose’s head struck the protrud¬ 
ing root of a great oak tree, and the blow was of sufficient 
violence to stun the black man. Zibe Turner let the negro 
lie by the side of the road, and going to the horses led 
them to a trunk of a tree and, taking the hitch strap, tied 


KIDNAPED 


157 


it to a lower limb. The outlaws’ purpose this time was 
not stealing horses. 

In the meantime Sam Wiles carried Viola, vainly strug¬ 
gling, about one hundred feet up the road and turned to 
the right, where not far away a two-seated wagon stood, 
with two horses hitched to it. Wiles lifted Viola, now 
exhausted and half dead with fear, into the rear seat and 
sat down beside her. Presently the moster dwarf appear¬ 
ed and, freeing the horses, jumped on to the front seat. 
Turning the horses into the road, he drove in an opposite 
direction to that which Viola had been taking. 

No words were spoken by any of the party and the 
horses pursued their way through the darkening forest. 
After a time they were driven by the dwarf into the en¬ 
closure before his mother’s cabin. She was at the door, 
evidently expecting them. The devil which was in her 
caused her to cry out in hideous glee: “An’ so you’uns 
cotched her did you’uns? Good. Now we’uns’ll see 
what de Jedge’ll do. Will he put gentl’men ob de hills 
in de jug agin? De debil blast ’im and all his kind.” 
Looking at Viola, who now had braced herself for any 
approaching ordeal, remembering that she was Judge Le 
Monde’s daughter, the hag said: “Now, my purty lady, 
we’uns’ll see who’ll wear fine clothes, an’ eat de best 
tings, an’ go round de kentry convartin’ de peeple. 
We’uns count dat you’ll get a taste of how we’uns live. 
Don’t hurt yer digestion ner spile yet purty looks longin’ 
ter see yer pa an’ ma an’ dat cussed preacher.” 

The monster dwarf here broke in, speaking in his deep 
voice: “Ma, dat’s nuff now. Tell sis to git ready in a 
hurry, for we’uns have a long drive before us.” 

Sis was soon ready—the tall, raw-boned, homely young 
woman, a fit member of this ogre family, but with a little 


158 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


less of depravity in her makeup and looks. She was 
dressed in a long calico gown, heavy coarse shoes, and «a 
much worn hat, whose flowers appeared worse than “the 
last rose of summer/’ after it had faded. 

Viola maintained silence, and awaited developments. 
The plan soon unfolded istelf. Sis Turner got up into 
the rear seat beside Viola. Zibe Turner mounted to the 
front seat, took the reins in his right hand, spoke to the 
horses, and away they went, leaving Sam Wiles looking 
after them. What was the character of his thoughts? 

Turner drove his team along a faintly marked country 
road always toward higher ground. On and on they went 
for miles, the way in many places becoming so dark, that 
the only direction was the avenue made by the cutting 
down of the trees. Sometimes they came to such serious 
obstructions in the road that the driver had to get down 
to remove them. At last the way was so narrow they 
had to leave the wagon and proceed on horseback. 

After climbing higher and higher they arrived at a 
small open place near the top of the knob. In its midst 
was a diminutive log cabin, consisting of only one room. 
Turner stopped his horses in front of the cabin, dismount¬ 
ed, and requested the girls to do the same. He unbarred 
the door, and the three entered. By means of flint, steel, 
tinder, and burnt rags Turner made a light. Viola ob¬ 
served that the cabin was of about the same order as the 
Sneath home she had visited that morning. A large fire¬ 
place was on one side. There was no window, and only 
one door. Two cheap beds were in two corners of the 
room. In another corner there were a number of bundles 
of provisions. A few cooking utensils were on the hearth, 
and a few dishes were on the table. The door on the in- 


KIDNAPED 


159 


side was secured by a heavy bar which fell into a strong 
socket, the bar being fastened by a stout padlock. 

Zibe Turner spoke: “Miss LeMonde, dis cabin is to be 
yer hum for a while. My sister is to be comp ’ny for ye, 
an’ also yer guard. No harm is to cum to ye, if ye do 
what ye air told. I’m goin’ to leave now, an’ sis ’ll tend 
to yer wants. Good-night to bof uv you bins.” 

With this he left the cabin, and drove away. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


The Search. 

A S THE TIME for the evening meal was approaching 
at Judge LeMonde’s mansion, his wife said to him: 
“I wonder what is keeping Viola so long today. She told 
me before starting, she would be home by sundown, and it 
surely is time she were back.” 

The Judge responded: “Do not be alarmed. She may 
have been kept longer than she expected at some of the 
places she visited. The days are very long now, and the 
twilight lingers. Besides, there will be moonlight to¬ 
night and if they are delayed they can easily see their way 
over the big road by the light of the moon. Mose is a 
trustworthy fellow and we know he is a careful driver. 

At this time Nora knocked at the door, announcing 
that supper was ready. Madam LeMonde was not fully 
*at ease, but went with the rest to the dining room. The 
repast was rather a quiet one, and when it was finished 
dusk had fully settled over the valley. The Judge and 
his wife went to the piazza and looked down the planta¬ 
tion private way, but could see no sign of carriage or 
horses. They together walked to the large gate which 
opened on the county road, opening the gate, and went 
the short distance to the river road along which the re¬ 
turning carriage would come. They stood and strained 
their eyes looking down the highway, but could discern 
no vehicle of any kind approaching. 

160 


THE SEARCH 


161 


For some time they stood looking and listening, and 
then returned to the house. Now they w T ere anxious in¬ 
deed; and so was their son George who had been to the 
barn on some business with one of the hostlers. 

Madam LeMonde exclaimed: “What can be keeping 
them? Surely some accident or harm has befallen them. 
Viola would never stay away from home as late as this un¬ 
less she had compiany with her. I am very nervous and 
disturbed. What can we do V 9 

George spoke up and said: “Do not be distressed, moth¬ 
er. If the carriage does not come in a few minutes, I will 
get Yelox and ride along the road to meet it and to be of 
help, if it is needed.” 

“Do so, my son, for this will help to relieve me of sus¬ 
pense/ * said his mother. 

They waited until it was quite dark, for the moon had 
not yet risen, though it would show itself presently. Then 
George decided to go at once. Hurrying to the barn, he 
siaddled and bridled his noble horse and instantly went 
along the road, his horse trotting rapidly. 

About five miles down the road George met Mose com¬ 
ing in the phaeton, but Yiola was missing. Terribly anx¬ 
ious for the safety of his sister, the white man asked the 
slave what had happened. 

Mose was still somewhat dizzy from the blow he had re¬ 
ceived from the monster dwarf land his fall on the root of 
the oak, but he told the story as far as he knew, and add¬ 
ed some particulars about himself. 

He said he lay for a long time unconscious by the side 
of the country road, but at last his senses came back to 
him. His head pained him very much, and a great swell¬ 
ing was over his right eye. In the dim light he saw the 
horses hitched under the tree. 


162 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


He tried to rise from the ground, but found it impos¬ 
sible at first. After making a number of attempts, he 
managed to get up on his feet and went to the phaeton 
reeling like a drunken man. He untied the horses and 
almost fell into the seat. He managed, however, to keep 
the horses in the road and drove them as best he could till 
he met “Mash: George.” 

George considered whether it were better for him to 
ride furiously after the outlaws, or to return to the plan¬ 
tation with Mose. He chose the latter course, and before a 
great while they came up the private way to the mansion. 

The Judge and his wife, and indeed the whole house¬ 
hold, were anxiously awaiting them. When the phaeton 
drove up and no Viola in it, Madam LeMonde became 
hysterical and almost fainted. She screamed: “Where 
* is my daughter? Where is she? What has happened to 
her? Tell me quickly.” 

The Judge was compelled to quiet his wife before he 
could hear the story of his daughter’s abduction. 

The group returned into the house. Entering the sitting 
room they discussed what was best to be done. The Judge 
requested his son George to ride as fast as possible to the 
county seat, arouse the sheriff and ask him to select a 
posse as soon as he was able, to search for the missing 
girl. This George proceeded to do. He rushed to the 
barn and mounting a fresh horse set off at all speed on his 
errand. 

Judge LeMonde hastily wrote some notes containing a 
brief account of his daughter’s seizure and, entrusting 
them to his most faithful slaves, instructed them to deliver 
the notes to those addressed. These were his most inti¬ 
mate neighbors and friends in the valley. He requested 


THE SEARCH 


163 


them to meet him at “Mount Pisgah’’ early in the morn¬ 
ing. 

As the Judge could do no more that night he suggested 
that they retire to their rooms, and seek rest. This they 
did, but no sleep came to him nor to his wife that night. 
Their thoughts were with the girl: 

“Where is she? Have they murdered her? What 
could be their object in carrying her away? Was it re¬ 
venge? How difficult it will be to find her. But Oh! 
that morning would come, so that the attempt can be 
made!” 

Thus they beat the walls of darkness with unavailing 
questions, and even their prayers were mixed with nat¬ 
ural forebodings and fears. 

With the first dawn of day Nona, who also had passed a 
restless night, awoke the fat cook (for she in spite of 
sympathy for the family had slept soundly) and asked her 
to get coffee and toast as quickly as possible. This was 
soon prepared, and the Judge land his wife drank the 
stimulant and ate a little toast. 

Presently thereafter the neighbors began to arrive. 
They were greatly affected by the foul deed, and vowed 
the direst punishment upon the outlaws in case they were 
captured. They offered to the family every assistance in 
their power. They spoke comforting words to the afflict¬ 
ed Judge, who showed the marks of his mental anguish 
and sleepless night in his haggard face* They sent their 
respects to Madam LeMonde, who was too prostrated to 
see them at this time. 

When all were arrived it was decided to awiait the com¬ 
ing of the sheriff and posse when all would go to the spot 
where Viola was taken, and from that point scour the 
wilderness under the sheriff's lead. 


164 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


The sun was not high in the heavens when the sheriff 
and a company of eight determined-looking men rode up 
to the mansion. No words were wasted. All were eager 
to depart. The leader ordered the company and planters 
to fall in, and away they went with swift pace toward the 
place they sought. Judge LeMonde and George rode with 
the sheriff. Mose, nearly recovered from his hurt, was 
in the company as guide. 

They came to the place where the carriage was stopped, 
and Mose took time to point to the very spot where his 
head came in contact with the root of the oak. They fol¬ 
lowed the road along which Sam Wiles went with the 
struggling Viola in his arms. They turned to the right, 
and saw the hoof prints of the horses the marauders had 
hidden with the wagon in the brush. 

Examining the road carefully (a road very little travel¬ 
ed) they saw wagon tracks which might have been those 
made by the wagon in which the kidnappers sat with 
their victim. 

Suspecting that the men would go first to the cabin of 
Zibe Turner, they went to this house, and found the old 
mother at home. From her they could get no satisfaction. 
She denied that she had seen Viola LeMonde lately. Shak^ 
ing her bony arm at the Judge and the rest, she command¬ 
ed them to begone from her premises. 

The searchers, leaving the enclosure, rode a short dis¬ 
tance into the woods and there stopped. They decided to 
follow the flight as before by means of the horse hoof 
and wagon tracks. This they did, but soon the way be¬ 
came merely a path, and then the path ended in the un¬ 
marked woodland. 

All trace of the fugitives was thus lost. The sheriff 
then divided his company into parties of two men each, 


THE SEARCH 


165 


and sent them in different directions in such a manner as 
to cover <as much ground as possible. Before dismissing 
them, he told them to search diligently the ground tra¬ 
versed, especially the wildest and deepest parts of the 
hills. They were to ride their horses when the way per¬ 
mitted, otherwise to go on foot. 

Not one of these men needed urging. They were all fir¬ 
ed with a grim determination to find if possible the place 
where the beautiful captive was imprisoned. They took 
no account of their own personal affairs, of hunger and 
fatigue, of the difficulties of travel through the uncleared 
forests. The clothing of some became torn with briers 
and sharp rocks, their shoes were damaged with stones, 
fallen limbs, muck and mire. Their hands were pierced 
by many thorns, as they pushed their way through the 
wilderness. 

The first day passed without finding any trace of the 
missing maiden. 

Where was Jasper Very while these thrilling events 
were taking place? As we have intimated, he had gone 
to a distant part of the county to hold a two days’ meet¬ 
ing. All unconscious of the terrible evil that had fallen 
upon his betrothed, he was pursuing his Master’s work 
with his accustomed zeal and success 

Before leaving home to visit her mission school people 
yiola had informed her mother of the new and intimate 
relations existing between Jasper Very and herself. The 
mother was much pleased with the engagement and, wom¬ 
an like, could not keep the news from her husband. She 
told him the story. He also was pleased with the infor¬ 
mation. The night he sent word to his neighbors of the 
abduction he wrote a longer not to Jasper Very, ac- 


166 


THE KENTUCKY HANGER 


quainting him of the villainous occurrence. This message 
he sent to the preacher by a trustful servant, Joshua. 

The servant rode through the night, but did not reach 
the village till the middle of the next morning. Horse 
and man were very much exhausted. The eight o’clock 
meeting was just closing and the preaching service was 
about to begin, when Joshua rode up to the little meeting¬ 
house. Jasper, looking through the open door, saw Josh¬ 
ua, whom he knew as one of Judge LeMonde’s slaves. 

Thinking something was wrong, Jasper hurried from 
the church and spoke to the messenger. Joshua gave him 
the note. As he read its contents, a heavy groan escaped 
his lips and he almost fell to the ground. With a tremen¬ 
dous effort at self-control, but with tears coursing down 
his manly cheeks, he said to Joshua: “Man, you and your 
horse are very tired. A livery stable is just around the 
corner. Put up your horse there, and the owner will tell 
you where you can get food and rest.” 

He then went into the church and said: “Friends, I 
have just received news which is very urgent, requiring 
my presence in another part of the county. I am sorry I 
cannot preach here this morning, but I must be excused, 
and I will ask the Rev. Irby Trynor kindly to take my 
place.” With these words he hurried from the building, 
and going to the stable of his stopping-place, quickly put 
saddle and bridle on trusty Bob, and rode like .a Jehu in 
the direction of “Mount Pisgah.” 

Darkness was settling on the river bottom when Jasper 
Very came along the road passing by Judge LeMonde’s 
plantation. Riding to the corner he turned to the right, 
went up the county road to the big gate, opened it, and 
passed up to the piazza. The Judge and George had re¬ 
turned from their unsuccessful search a half hour before. 


THE SEARCH 


167 


The planters had gone home for the night, promising to 
renew the hunt next morning. The sheriff and his men 
were accommodated at various houses, some stopping at 
“ Mount Pisgah.” 

As Jasper dismounted the Judge himself met him. For 
a moment the two strong men could find no words to 
speak. They shook hands together and looked the sor¬ 
row they felt. Then the Judge invited Jasper into the 
house, ordering a servant to take Bob to the barn. Jasper 
was most (anxious to know all the particulars of the case, 
and the Judge told him every detail. Their tired, hun¬ 
gry bodies craved some refreshments which were served 
to them, and soon they went to their rooms to seek that 
rest which the strenuous efforts of the morrow required. 

In the quiet of his room Jasper had a great fight with 
his own heart. Fierce temptations assailed him. He 
would have vengeance. If he found those atrocious men 
he would kill them, if he could. His feelings found vent 
in some of the imprecatory psalms. Such cattle as Wiles 
and Turner were not fit to live; they polluted the earth 
upon which they stood. If arrested, they should suffer 
the direst penalties of the law. 

But after this paroxysm had spent itself, his feeling be¬ 
came calmer. Prayer, like a healing balm, came to his 
aid. He was (able to commit even this trial to the wisdom 
and help of almighty God. 

Thus he found repose in sleep, and in the morning arose 
with a clear mind, a refreshed body, and a preparation 
for the heavy duties of the day. 

That day the search was renewed with the same vigor 
as yesterday, but even with the help of Very, who passed 
through the wilderness like a tornado, the hiding place of 
the desperadoes was not discovered. 


168 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


The searchers returned to their abodes well nigh ex¬ 
hausted and discouraged. Judge LeMonde requested Jas¬ 
per Very to pass the night at “Mount Pisgah,” and this 
the preacher did. 

After supper they were sitting on the piazza going over 
the incidents of the day, and planning what course they 
would best take on the morrow, when one of them, looking 
in the direction of the big gate, saw a light shining ap¬ 
parently on one of its posts. He Galled the attention of 
the rest to it. They wondered what it could mean. It 
could not be a firefly. It was not the light of a lantern 
in the hands of some one walking; the light was too 
steady. The Judge said to George: “My son, run down 
the lane, and see what that light means / f George need¬ 
ed no urging, but at once went with swift pace to the gate. 
There he beheld a lighted candle stuck on the top of the 
right post of the gate. Below the candle was a piece of 
paper tied with a string, and the string made fast to the 
post. 

George brought both candle and paper to the group on 
the piazza. The Judge took the paper into the sitting 
room. On the paper was some writing done with a 
sprawling hand. He bad some difficulty in deciphering 
it, but at last made out its contents. This is how it read : 

“judg lemond yer Dater iz wel and in Gud hans. You 
must gib 1000 dollars in Gold and She wil kum hum put 
Mony in Holler Tre whar Riber Bens 4 mile belo bridge- 
water nex Mundy Eve. If de Man Who Kums for de Gold 
gits shot or tuk yer Dater wil dy. 

Sind Po Wite.” 

Judge LeMonde was some time deciphering the note. 
When he understood it, he called the sheriff and the other 


THE SEARCH 


169 


men into the room, and read aloud the writing. At once 
a council was held. The Judge said: '‘Evidently the 
bandits have put the time of payment next Monday even¬ 
ing to give me opportunity to get the money from the 
bank. Sheriff, w’hat do you advise?” 

The officer thought deeply for a while, and then an¬ 
swered: “Those are very desperate and determined men. 
Their reason for abducting your daughter is now plain— 
it was for ransom. Of course, Judge, you do not put one 
thousand dollars in the scale against Miss Viola’s life. 
It is outrageous to think of gratifying the wishes of those 
scoundrels, but I am afraid it must be done, if we cannot 
circumvent them before that time. We have still tomor¬ 
row and Monday to continue the search. Perhaps we can 
discover their hiding place in these two days.” 

Jasper Very said: “We must be more diligent, if pos¬ 
sible, than before in seeking the captive. Tomorrow is 
the Sabbath, but I feel it my duty to give up all my church 
engagements to help find the missing one.” 

“Tomorrow,” added the sheriff, “we will cover new 
territory in the forest, and let us hope for scucess.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


Tire Rescue. 

W HILE THE MEN at ‘ ‘ Mount Pisgah* ’ were planning 
how to deliver Viola from her captors, Mart Spink, 
father of Susanna, the girl with the wonderful eyes, wias 
down with a severe chill in his cabin among the hills. 
Cold shivers ran up and down his back, as though a lizard 
shod with ice were making a playground of it. Then 
the cold struck his head, and his teeth began to chatter 
worse than if he were climbing 11 Greenland’s icy moun¬ 
tains/ J Soon his whole body was in a frigid state which 
made him cry out for bedclothes, and more bedclothes, 
and still more blankets and quilts. He shook so with his 
chilly sensations that the bedclothes above him were in 
perpetual motion, and the mattress under him was agitat¬ 
ed with the motions of his body. Then came on the ter¬ 
rible fever, which wias worse than the chill, as the pain of 
fire is harder to bear than the cold of ice. Poor Spink 
seemed to be burning up. A dreadful headache seized 
him, which was only a little relieved when his wife ap¬ 
plied cloths wrung out of cold water to his forehead. Af¬ 
ter some hours came the great sweat, which saturated his 
night shirt and a portion of his pillow and bedclothes. 

This attack was so violent it bordered on a “congestive 
chill / 9 which the settlers knew to be very dangerous. 
His wife waited upon him all night, not wishing to keep 
the children up, and in the morning he was very weak and 
she much worn. 


170 



THE RESCUE 


171 


Susanna rose early and took the pail to milk Brindle. 
What was her surprise to find the barn door open, and 
when she looked into the building she saw that their 
young horse, Chester, was missing. He had pushed the 
barn door ajar and disappeared. She dropped her pail, 
ran into the house, and told her mother the news. Mrs. 
Spink thought it best to inform her husband of the oc¬ 
currence, though he was still quite ill. 

Spink spoke from his bed: “That hoss has prob’ly went 
back to his old hum. You’uns knows I bought him of a 
feller away back on de knobs. Sum one must go find ’im. 
I can’t go, nuther can yer ma. Elmiry an’ the boys must 
do the chores. So, Susanna, you must get Maud out’n 
de barn, an’ go after de hoss. It’s a long trip, <an’ I’m 
sorry ye hav ter go. Take a snack (food) with yer, fer 
ye’ll git hungry.” 

Susanna replied: “Don’t be troubled, pa. I can ride 
as good as a man. I will gladly go, and try my best to 
find Chester.” Her marvelous eyes shone with a bril¬ 
liant light, and in a few minutes she was gone. 

The girl’s quest for the horse might have reminded her 
of Saul’s search for his father’s asses, had she been better 
acquainted with the Bible. As Saul failed to discover the 
animals, but found a kingdom, so the maid did not find 
the horse, Chester ; but discovered a startling situation. 

Her way led by Zibe Turner’s cabin, then to the knob, 
and along its side, ever up toward the former home of the 
horse. When she had nearly reached the top she came to 
the little open space containing the hut in which Viola 
LeMonde was imprisoned. 

There was an old well by the hut, but its sweep had rot¬ 
ted down, rand the water was stagnant and unfit to drink. 
Hence, Elmira Turner, the guard of Viola, was compelled 


172 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


to go to a spring one-eighth of a mile distant to get pure 
water. Having barred the cabin on the outside, she was 
on such a trip when Susanna rode up. 

The rider, with a girl’s curiosity, came to the hut to 
look it over. Viola heard the horse’s tread and, looking 
between two logs from which the chinks had fallen, saw 
her young friend. “Susanna, dear,” she cried, greatly 
excited, ‘ ‘Sam Wiles and Zibe Turner have taken me by 
force and brought me here. My guard, Elmira Turner, 
has gone to the spring for water. Ride as fast as you 
can, and tell my father or some other friend of my where¬ 
abouts.” 

Susanna was surprised beyond measure at the discov¬ 
ery, and her heavenly eyes glowed like two stars. 

“0 my dear teacher,” she exclaimed, “I have heard 
that you were carried away. I wanted to help in the 
search but was not able. This is awful. I will ride back 
as quick as possible, and try to find some one to come to 
aid you.” 

With this she turned her horse about, and applied whip 
and spur to Maud. Regardless of obstructions frequently 
in her path—fallen limbs, saplings growing close togeth¬ 
er, bushes coming to the breast of her steed, springy soil 
and uneven ground—she rode with a swift pace. Her 
dark hair streamed behind her- With firm hands she held 
the reins, and her bright eyes traced the direction to take 
and also looked for some of the searchers. 

She was riding through a thick wood, tolerably free 
from underbrush, -when she was overjoyed to see Jasper 
Very riding toward her on his well known horse, Bob. 
The preacher showed the marks of his exertions. His face 
was flushed, his hair never very amenable to brush and 
comb, was rumpled by contact with bushes, twigs and 


THE BESCUE 


173 


leaves. He was moving along swiftly, ever looking for 
some signs which would lead him to his beloved. He had 
become separated from his companion, John Larkin. 

Susanna and Jasper saw each other about the same 
time, and in a trice their horses were face to face. Al¬ 
most breathless with hard riding and excitement the girl 
told what she had learned. 

The preacher was affected as though a current of elec¬ 
tricity had passed through his body. For a minute he was 
too bewildered to think, but by an effort of will he became 
somewhat more calm and considered what was best to be 
done. 

He said: “Susanna, how can we thank you enough for 
this information? God bless you for bringing it to me. 
Now ride as rapidly as possible to your home and ask 
your father please to loan us a horse and buggy. Bring 
them along the rotad as far as you can with ease. If I get 
Miss Viola out of the hut, I will give her a place on Bob’s 
back, and we will ride till we meet the buggy. Is it pos¬ 
sible for you to direct me to the hut?” 

“Yes, Mr. Very. When I returned, thinking I might 
have to act as pilot to the cabin I kept the way in my 
mind, and I think I can tell you pretty well how to go.” 
She then indicated the route in considerable detail, and 
Jasper was sure he could find the place. 

What deep emotions stirred his breast as he hurried 
forward! He knew that his darling was alive. This was 
a great satisfaction. But she was in dire peril. He must 
rescue her at once at all hazards. He would dare the dan¬ 
ger alone, for the searchers being scattered through the 
wilderness, there was no one to whom he could look fo? 
help. 


174 


THE KENTUCKY RANOER 


He had learned that Elmira Turner, the monster 
dwarf’s sister, was guarding Viola, and he rightly sup¬ 
posed that Sam Wiles or the dwarf would picket the hut 
most of the time. 

Without any great difficulty Jasper Very followed the 
route given him by Susanna. At last he saw a little be¬ 
fore him the opening in the forest of which he had been 
told. He dismounted from Bob, and hid him in a thicket. 
Then he cautiously crept forward and, coming to the edge 
of the clearing, screened himself behind a big walnut tree 
and reconnoitered the surroundings. The coast seemed 
clear. He walked quickly to the door of the hut and said 
in a loud voice: “Viola, Jasper is here, and has come to 
take you home. I find the door is locked on the inside, but 
not the outside. Can you unfasten the door?” 

“0 Jasper,” said Viola, “the woman with me holds the 
key to the lock, and she will not give it to me.” 

“No, indeed, I’ll not,” said Elmira Turner, “an’ I de¬ 
fy you to git in. My brother’ll be here soon, an’ if you 
want to save yer hide, it will be healthy for you to make 
yo’self sca’se right off.” 

“Woman,” shouted Very, “if you will not unlock the 
door I’ll break it down.” 

“Try it,” said she. 

Jasper did try. He wias the strongest man in the coun¬ 
ty, and it seemed that now the strength of ten men was 
given him. 

The door was made of thick oak. The cabin may have 
been built extra strong to shelter some former inmates, if 
attacked by Indians. But at this time the door was weak¬ 
ened by age and exposure to the elements; also it was 
somewhat worm eaten. 


THE RESCUE 


175 


Jasper put his right shoulder to the door, and pushed 
with all his might. The door cracked a little, but did not 
break. He took the broken well sweep and, using the 
larger end (which contained some sound wood) as a bat¬ 
tering ram, fiercely assaulted the obstruction. This weak¬ 
ened the structure, but it did not yield. Then Jasper, 
summoning all his mighty strength, hurled himself against 
the door, and it fell in with a crash. 

He at once passed inside the hut. Taking hold of Viola, 
he was leading her to the opening, when Elmira Turner, 
seized hold of the girl to keep her in the room. A strug¬ 
gle ensued. Jasper did not want to strike the Turner 
woman or treat her roughly. So he was compelled to 
force Viola from her grasp by main strength. This he 
did, and taking his betrothed in his arms, stepped out into 
the sunlight. 

Just then the sound of a shot rang out on the stillness 
of the summer air, and Viola became limp and apparently 
lifeless in her lover’s arms. 

Zibe Turner, the monster dwarf, had come to the clear¬ 
ing in the nick of time. He saw the open door. He be¬ 
held the rescuer bearing out the captive in his arms. Mur¬ 
der sprang up at once in his heart. He decided to kill 
the preacher then and there. This he had wanted to do 
for a long time. But the excitment of the occasion and 
his own dreadful hate unsteadied his nerves a trifle. 
When putting his rifle to his shoulder, he aimed at Very’s 
heart, crying out: “Dat’s my holt!” The bullet missed 
its mark, and entered the right shoulder of the lovely 
Viola. 

When the dwarf saw the unexpected result of his shot, 
even his resolution failed him, and he proceeded no fur¬ 
ther with his murderous work. 


176 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


Jasper Very looked down on the senseless form of his 
beloved, and cried out in the bitter agony of his soul: 
“My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” 

Holding her as he w r ould a little child in his arms, he 
strode out of the clearing. Quickly coming to his horse, 
Bob, he unhitched his rein, and holding the unconscious 
girl tenderly but firmly in his left arm, he swung into the 
saddle. 

With anguish in his soul and unaccustomed tears in his 
blue eyes, he pressed one kiss upon the pale lips of her 
who was dearer to him than life. Holding her in as com¬ 
fortable position as possible, he started down the knob. 

Viola gave little if any signs of life. She was wholly 
unconscious, her face w r as as pale as death, her eyes were 
closed, there was no perceptible pulse. 

Jasper rode as carefully as possible, but was a consider¬ 
able time reaching the more open section of the country. 
At last he came to the very primitive road along which 
he hiad not ridden far, when he beheld approaching the 
horse and buggy he had requested Susanna to get. 

Susanna was the driver, and was amazed at what she 
saw—her .Sunday School teacher lying like one dead on 
the preacher’s arm. 

Time was too precious for many words of explanation, 
and it was the work of only a minute or two to place Vi¬ 
ola in the buggy, and for Jasper to get in beside her, 
Susanna rode Bob. 

Jasper Very’s plan was to take the wounded maiden to 
Mart Spink’s house, and then to hurry for medical help, 
if she were living. 

Driving as rapidly (as was consistent with the serious¬ 
ness of the case, they at last reached the home of Susanna. 
The daughter rushed into the house and tol<T her mother 


THE RESCUE 


177 


the tragic story in brief. The woman was greatly shock¬ 
ed, and at once went to the buggy and told Jasper Very 
that Viola could be put into a bedroom adjoining the 
one in which her husband lay. Mart Spink was much 
better now. Such is the way of chills and fever. 

Jasper, seeing faint signs of life in Viola, left her to 
the tender ministries of Mrs. Spink and Susanna, while 
he rode with all haste for a doctor who lived several 
miles away. 

The women undressed the patient, and put her into the 
bed. They bathed her wound, and bandaged it as best 
they could. Fortunately it had not bled excessively. 

In due time the physician, who was also a surgeon, 
came. He probed for the ball, and succeeded in extract¬ 
ing it. He gave those restoratives and remedies which 
the state of medicine in those days and in that region 
warranted. He ordered that the patient be kept perfect¬ 
ly quiet, and that no persons but her mother (who became 
her nurse) and Mrs. 'Spink should enter the room. 

For days and weeks the life of the lovely girl hung in 
an even balance. Great was the interest which this ca¬ 
lamity aroused in the whole country around. The news 
of the shooting spread with great rapidity. By night all 
the searchers had heard of it, and as the kidnaped maiden 
was found and restored to friends, their work in that par¬ 
ticular was done, and most of them returned to their 
homes. 

As the golden autumn days came Viola gained a little 
strength and was able to be moved to “Mount Pisgah.” 
Here Jasper and her intimate friends were permitted to 
see her for short periods. Her face was as white as the 
pillow upon which she lay. Her blue eyes had lost their 
bright, but not their kind and loving, look. Her golden 


178 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


hair was still beautiful, and it seemed an aureole around 
her head. 

One bright day she felt able to hold a longer conversa¬ 
tion than before with her betrothed. Very sat by the 
bedside, holding the thin white hand- The slender fin¬ 
ger could scarce retain the beautiful engagement ring her 
lover had given her. 

“Jasper, dear,” she said, “how happy I am that I re¬ 
ceived the cruel ball instead of you. All the suffering I 
have gladly borne for your sake. Yes, and if it were my 
lot to be an invalid while life lasts, I would willingly bear 
the burden, knowing that by the cross I suffer my beloved 
is able in the full strength of his manhood to preach the 
gospel and minister to the wants of human souls. So 
there are compensations in all the ills of life.” 

“My precious one,” said the preacher, “your words are 
those of her who lives very near the heart of God. The 
finest thing in the world is sacrifice tand suffering for the 
benefit of others. But you must put far away the idea of 
being a constant invalid. Gradually you are regaining 
your health, and before long we shall see you as lively and 
jolly as ever. By Christmas time I want to behold roses 
in your cheeks, and see you skip about like a roe upon 
the mountains. Keep up a brave, trustful spirit, and I 
believe all will be well.” 

He kissed his betrothed tenderly, stroked her beautiful 
hair, and retired from the room. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


A Battle With Moonshiners. 

QAM WILES and Zibe Turner, the monster dwarf, were 
^ not captured by the sheriff and his men. For a num¬ 
ber of days after the wounding of Viola LeMonde the 
officers and others kept a sharp watch on the cabins of 
both outlaws, and tried to find them in some of the fast¬ 
nesses of the hills. But the bandits were too cunning for 
them. They seldom dared to enter their homes, but spent 
most of their time in the open or in the shelter of the cave 
where the illicit whisky was made. Some of their con¬ 
federates were usually near them, ready to give them 
warning of any officer ^approach. 

At last the climax came. It was a hot evening in mid- 
August. Judge LeMonde was sitting under the pine trees, 
attempting to catch any breeze which might blow from 
the river when, looking down the road leading to the big 
gate, he saw a woman approaching. 

It wias Jemima Sneath, and she was evidently laboring 
under great excitement. Her eyes were deep sunken and 
glowed like coals of fire. They showed what was in her 
heart—jealousy, hate, anger, recklessness, courage, deter¬ 
mination. Her thick black hair was loosely put together, 
stray locks falling here and there about her face and neck. 

“Jed ge LeMonde/’ she said, “lam Jemima Sheath, and 
I live back in de hills. I hev somethin * I wish to tell you. 
Can I see you by yerself?” 

179 


180 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


“Certainly, my good woman,” replied the Judge, “let 
me lead you into my private office.” 

When they were seated Jemima began her story:“ Jedge, 
I have cum to you for revenge. For more’n two years I 
have bin iSam Wiles’ gal, and a year ago he promised to 
marry me. I have bin true to ’im and bin willin’ to set 
de day any time. But lately his love for me has growd 
cold, and he has bin goin’ with annoder gal in de hills. 
Yisterday dis gial and I met and had sum words, and she 
up and tol’ me that Sam Wiles had left me for her. With 
dis I sprung upon her like a wild cat and tore her clothes, 
scratched her face, and pulled part of her hair out by de 
roots. Den I left her and marched straight to Sam’s cab¬ 
in, and tasked im if wat de gal said was true. He said it 
war, dat he had lost his luv for me and put it on Kate 
Sawyer. Sumthing like a knife seemed to cut my heart, 
and I wanted to die. I left Sam Wiles, sayin’: ‘Sam, 
good-by forever; you have broke my heart, and I’ll break 
yourn.” 

Here the woman’s emotions overcame her, and she 
would have fallen from her chair had not Judge LeMonde 
caught her. He hastened to a table and, filling a glass 
with water, brought it to her. This revived her, and 
again she sat up straight with the blazing fire in her eyes. 

The Judge tried to comfort her, saying: “Be composed, 
woman, and finish your story, and I will help you all I am 
able.” 

Jemima replied: “I did not cum here to git help, but 
revenge. Sam Wiles, Zibe Turner^ and der crowd have 
bin busy for a long time makin’ ’licit whisky. I know 
whar dey make and store it, and I’m willin’ to tell 
you’uns how to git to de place.” 


A BATTLE WITH MOONSHINERS 


181 


“To discover where their still is will greatly please the 
revenue officers / 9 said Judge LeMonde, “but won’t you 
get yourself into trouble if you tell on your friends f” 

“Dey ain’t my friens’,” she fiercely replied. “I cast 
off de hull lot; and as to trouble nuthin’ can’t be so hard 
to bear as de load I carries now. I wish in my soul I war 
dead.” 

Again her feelings almost overcame her; but the Judge 
spoke kindly to her, and in a few minutes she recovered 
her composure once more. He then requested her to con¬ 
tinue her story. 

“Dey make der whisky in Wind Cave,” she said and 
proceeded to describe its location as recorded in a former 
chapter. “To capture de ’shiners and de whisky de offi¬ 
cers must ’sprise both openin’s to onct,” she continued. 

The Judge asked: “Would you be willing to tell me how 
to find the two ways into the cave?” 

“I would tell anything to git even with Sam Wiles,” 
was the reply. 

“I am sure the capture of these lawbreakers will be a 
blessing to (all this part of Kentucky,” remarked Judge 
LeMonde, “but I am sorry for the reason you have to 
tell where they may be found.” 

At this point he got writing material and, asking the 
woman clearly to describe the way to the cave’s mouths, 
he wrote as she dictated. We will write the account in 
her own words: “De big openin’ is ’bout twenty feet be¬ 
low de top of Bald Knob. You’uns ’member you’uns kin 
see from de knob’s foot his bald head, whar is great rocks 
and not ary trees. Well, de cave’s mouf is in er straight 
line below dat twenty feet. To fin’ de odder openin’ you¬ 
’uns walk from de rocky head of de knob Tong his back¬ 
bone east for ’bout one hundred feet, and you’uns cum to 


182 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


a tall poplar tree. Go down de hill to de souf fifteen feet, 
and you’uns’ll find a thicket full of brambles, bushes, and 
leaves. De hole is dar, covered with underbrush and 
leaves. ’’ 

Having thanked her for the important information giv¬ 
en, Judge LeMonde courteously led her to the door and 
bade her good evening. 

Early next morning he took steps to profit by what he 
had heard. He sent his son George to tell Jasper Very 
the news while he himself rode to the county seat to not¬ 
ify the sheriff and revenue officers of the outlaw’s rendez¬ 
vous. That very day a keen, trusted employee of the gov¬ 
ernment was deputed to go over the ground and learn 
whether the woman’s story were true or false. In a day 
or two he reported that he had discovered the two open¬ 
ings to the cave. It was known that the attempt to cap¬ 
ture the moonshiners would be dangerous. They were 
fearless, desperate men, well armed. It would require 
skill iand courage to take them. 

The sheriff and chief revenue officers, knowing that the 
moonshiners were so formidable in arms, numbers, and lo¬ 
cation, were anxious to have as large an attacking party 
as possible. Hence they were glad when Long Tom, Jas¬ 
per Very, honest David Hester and his sons, Hans 
Schmidt, the German, John Larkin, George LeMonde, and 
others were sworn in as constables. 

Long Tom’s case was peculiar. We will let him put it 
in his own drawling tones: “Friens, it am like dis. 
(Though I has bin a Christian for months, I could not 
bring myself to gib away de hidin’ places of my ol’ pals. 
It looked too mueh like treachery and betrayal. P’raps 
I’m wrong but, if so, you’uns will pardon me. But now 
de case am diffrunt. Thar hidin’ place am knowd, an’ 


A BATTLE WITH MOONSHINERS 


183 


it is for de good of de neighborhood an* der own good dat 
dese men should be caught an’ der bizness brok up, an’ 
I’m willin’ to be one to bring dis about. So I jine yer 
company, not to kill dose men, but to try to save der 
souls.” 

It was decided to divide the attacking company into 
two parts, one to approach the large opening of the cave 
and the other the smaller one. Larkin, Grimes and the 
Hester men were with the former crowd, and Long Tom, 
Jasper Very, George LeMonde, and Hans Schmidt with 
the latter. All felt that the best way to begin the attack 
was to take the moonshiners by surprise, and it was 
thought that early morning was the most favorable hour, 
when the outlaws would probably be asleep. 

Soon after midnight of a Wednesday morning the men 
gathered noiselessly at the knob’s base, having left their 
horses far up the road. Just as the first streaks of day 
were appearing the two groups of men about one hundred 
feet apart began climbing the steep elevation. The slope 
was fully forty-five degrees, and in some parts much 
steeper. The men had to brace their feet against trees 
and saplings, and near the top to pull themselves up by 
holding on to branches of trees and shrubs above them. 

At last the larger party reached the level, which, ex¬ 
tending inward, formed the floor of the cave. The reve¬ 
nue officer peered over the top and saw a man with a rifle 
by his side asleep with his back braced against a wall. He 
was near the cave’s mouth. Farther he could dimly be¬ 
hold the forms of men lying along the sides of the cave. 
A smoldering fire was beneath the still, which stood some 
fifteen feet from the entrance. 

The officer gave the signal to advance, and sprang upon 
the ledge with several others. At the same instant the 


184 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


sleeping sentinel awoke, taking in the situation iat a 
glance, seized his rifle and attempted to fire it; but before 
he could do so the revenue officer was upon him like a 
tiger upon his prey. Though he could prevent the firing, 
he could not control the voice, and the man gave one 
mighty shout, which awoke every sleeper as though the 
crack of doom had come. They all sprang up in amaze¬ 
ment and confusion, and just at this moment the leader 
called out, “Surrender!” The attacking party, close to 
their commander’s heels, rushed into the cave, and before 
the outlaws could offer resistance sprang upon them and 
overpowered most of them. 

But Wiles, Turner, and a few others were not to be 
caught so easily. They were sleeping farther in the cave, 
and, though awakened so suddenly, did not lose their wits 
and nerve. They jumped to their feet, and the answer 
they gave to the summons to surrender was a blaze of 
rifles, with ian instant retreat into the darkness of the 
cave. The noise of the rifles’ discharge reverberated in 
the cavern like repeated rolls of thunder. 

The leader’s hat was pierced by a ball, one of his depu¬ 
ties fell shot through the lungs, and honest Hester’s sec¬ 
ond son, Edward, shot through the brain, sank at his fa¬ 
ther’s feet a corpse. 

Before the echoes of these shots died away another vol¬ 
ley rang out, fired into the darkness at the retreating out¬ 
laws. It wounded two or three of them, but most escap¬ 
ed, having turned a corner of the cave before the bullets 
struck. 

Those unhurt, led by Wiles and Turner, made their way 
tas fast as possible through the darkness to the second 
opening, for they had no idea that this too had been made 


A BATTLE WITH MOONSHINERS 


185 


known to their pursuers. It was their intention to rush 
into the forest and then, scattering in several directions, 
to elude pursuit, and thus escape. Their very precipi- 
tency saved some of them in this w r ay. The second com¬ 
pany was in its place near the second opening when the 
men heard the shots of the first (attack. Rightly surmis¬ 
ing that the moonshiners w^ould try to escape through the 
second aperture, the men on guard were ready to fire; but 
they were not prepared to see the renegades rush through 
the underbrush so swiftly, and, not wishing to shoot them 
down in cold blood, the leader called: “Halt! Halt! Sur¬ 
render ! ,y 

The outlaws were startled by the cry; but, being desper¬ 
ate, most of them gave no heed to the words. Bending low, 
they ran with great rapidity to the shelter of the great 
tree trunks which rose everywhere around. However, 
some were too late, and the volley which was fired slew 
several and wounded others. 

Wiles, Turner, and three others succeeded in getting 
behind trees without being injured. The monster dwarf 
was terrible to behold. He had the quickness of a cat and 
the fury of a lion. Though the odds were so much against 
him and the rest, he yelled defiance at the revenue men 
and volunteers, and cursed them with bitter oaths. They 
resorted to Indian tactics. They shot from behind trees 
at any man in sight, land soon had wounded a number. 
However, the struggle was unequal, for the revenue offi¬ 
cer sent his men out in the form of a fan, and thus they 
would soon have succeeded in making an enfilading fire 
upon the moonshiners; and the latter could not retreat 
rapidly, because in running from tree to tree they were 
in danger of being shot. Besides, in <a short time their 
ammunition was exhausted, and they were at the mercy 


186 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


of their pursuers. When called upon to surrender, all but 
Wiles and Turner complied. These refused. 

Then spoke Long Tom with his well known drawl: 
‘ ‘Pardners, it would be nuthin’ but murder to kill de¬ 
fenseless men, an’ I move dat we’uns surround 'em an’j 
bind 'em an’ tote ’em off to jail.” 

This advice was heeded, and Long Tom w r as the first to 
move forward. The monster dwarf stood like a wild 
beast at bay with his clubbed rifle in his hand. As Long 
Tom came near he swung it with terrible force, attempt¬ 
ing to break his adversary’s skull; but Tom was too quick 
and the blow passed by. Instantly Long Tom caught the 
dwarf around the arms to hold those members, for he well 
knew their power. But in a moment Turner, like a snake, 
twisted his right arm loose, and reaching under his short 
coat, drew out a sharp hunting knife, and hissing the 
words, “Traitor! Dat’s my holt,” between his clenched 
teeth, drove it into the back of the reformed moonshiner. 

One man, however, had been on the alert for some das¬ 
tardly act of the dwarf. This was young George Le- 
Monde. Ever since his horse had been stolen, and his sis¬ 
ter had been kidnaped, he was on his guard against this 
man for himself land his friends. So now, while the strug¬ 
gle between the two men was going on, George was stand¬ 
ing with his rifle ready for use. He saw the flash of the 
knife, the descending stroke, and knowing the design, 
made his rifle speak, only a moment too late to save Long 
Tom. The bullet sped on its way and penetrated the 
brain of the dwarf, land the two men fell to the ground 
locked in each other’s arms. 

In the meantime a crowd had surrounded Sam Wiles, 
who had backed up against a giant oak tree and stood 
holding his rifle by its barrel, determined to sell his life as 



A BATTLE WITH MOONSHINERS 


187 


dearly as possible. Again Jasper Very became his good 
angel. In a firm voice he pleaded with his companions 
not to redden their hands with a fellow creature’s blood. 

However, some resisted his plea. One planter cried: 
“You saved his worthless life once before and said the 
law would punish him. How has he been punished? By 
shooting down some of our best neighbors. I say & 
bullet ought to let daylight through his onery carcass, and 
Ill be the one to fire it.” With this remark he raised his 
gun to his shoulder and pulled the trigger; but before the 
weapon went off Jasper knocked the barrel up in the air, 
and the lead went flying among the leaves. 

“Man, that was a reckless and cowardly act,” expos¬ 
tulated Very. “It is true Wiles escaped from prison, but 
he will not do so again. He will be more closely guarded, 
(and if he is found guilty of murder, will be properly pun¬ 
ished.” Then, turning to Wiles, he said: “You see, 
Wiles, resistance is useless, and by showing it you will 
throw your life away- Surely you are not ready for 
death, land I beseech you to lay down your rifle and sub¬ 
mit to be made a prisoner. 

Life is sweet, even to ruffians at bay, and Wiles, chang¬ 
ing his decision, made with Turner not to be taken alive, 
said: “If you fellers will not hurt me, I’ll put myself in 
yer hands.” The crowd consenting, Jasper Very prom¬ 
ised that no harm should be done him, and then Wiles 
threw down his weapon and a constable placed handcuffs 
upon him. 

In the fighting Wiles and Turner had become separated 
more than a hundred feet, so that the crowd which arrest¬ 
ed Wiles did not know of the tragedy by the other tree. 
When they oame up with their prisoner, they saw the two 


188 


THE KENTUCKY BANGER 


men lying in the shade of an oak. Some one had thrown 
a coat over Turner’s body. 

When Jasper Very looked upon Long Tom, he knew 
that death was near. His eyes were becoming glassy and 
his sallow cheeks were of an (ashen hue. That mysterious 
shadow thrown by the wings of the approaching death 
angel settled on his face. John Larkin was kneeling over 
him, trying to administer what ease and comfort he could. 
He was suffering great pain, but he bore it with utmost 
patience. Jasper Very was greatly moved at the sight. 
Kneeling by his side, he took his knotted and powerful 
hand in one of his and rubbed it gently with the other. 
Tears came to his eyes as he saw this rough but reclaim¬ 
ed moonshiner in his last agony. 

The sufferer spoke, and his naturally slow speech was 
slower still: “Good-by, cumrades, I’m goin’ home. Long 
Tom has lived a wicked life; but God is merciful, <an’ he 
has put away all my sins. I ax pardon of all I hev hurt, 
tan’ forgive ary who has harmed me.” Then his mind 
began to wander, and he thought himself in the church 
where he had found peace in his soul. “ You’uns is right, 
Preacher Very, whisky makin’, sellin’ an’ drinkin’ is 
wrong; and I’ll quit it for good frum dis night on. 0 dat 
sweet music, how good it makes me feel! 

* Jesus, Lover of my soul, 

Let me to thy bosom fly. 

Safe into the haven guide, 

0 receive my soul at last.’ 

“Hush! Dey air singin’ agin, an’ how her sweet voiee 
leads all de rest: 

1 Other—refuge—have—I—none; 

Hangs—my—helpless—soul—on—thee.’ 


A BATTLE WITH MOONSHINERS 


189 


‘ ‘ Dat—is—my—prayer—my—only—hope. Long—Tom 
will—go—home—home—to—God—on—dat—prayer . 9 9 

He straightened his tall form on the grassy slope under 
the kindly shadow of the mighty oak. A look of peace 
and pure content came into his face, as though he were 
glad to have his discharge; he gave one look through the 
leafy top of the tree, as if beholding some form in the up¬ 
per air, then slowly closed his eyes- A shiver ran through 
his frame, a gurgle in his throat, a gasp from his lips, and 
all was over. 

In low reverent tones John Larkin said: “Blessed are 
the dead which die in the Lord.” 

Again the captain of the moonshiners, Sam Wiles, was 
taken to the county jail. This time he did not escape. In 
process of time he and the other prisoners were tried for 
the illicit distilling of whisky, were found guilty, and sen¬ 
tenced to the penitentiary at Frankfort for a term of 
years. The charge of murder was not pressed against 
them.. So they pass from this history. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


“I Thee Wed.” 


HE GOLDEN MONTH of September saw Viola much 



* . improved in health. Her wound had healed nicely, 
thanks to her strong constitution and to the care she had 
(received from the physician and nurse. Now she was 
rapidly convalescing, tand as the fine autumn days went 
by she was able to ride in her carriage, and even visit the 
mission school, though unable to teach her class of girls. 

By Christmas time the roses had indeed reappeared in 
her cheeks, and her step was (almost as elastic as ever. 
June found her fully restored to health. This month was 
to be forever memorable to her, for her wedding to Jasper 
Very was set for the eighteenth day. 

The whole plantation was in a fever of excitement quite 
a while before the event was to transpire. All was bustle 
tand commotion- Every one seemed to have a personal 
interest in the affair. The slaves talked and sang about it 
as they worked in the fields, and renewed -the gossip in 
the evening around their cabin doors. 

Aunt Nancy, the cook, attired in a dress spotlessly 
clean, a bright red bandanna tied around her head, was 
more pompous and dictatorial than ever. Her helpers 
had been increased for the event, and she issued her com¬ 
mands with a force which would have done credit to a 
skipper on a quarter-deck. Often she scolded those 
around her, but her anger was more apparent than real. 


190 


I THEE WED 


191 


and while she smote right and left with one hand, with 
the other soon after she patted and petted the object of 
her wrath. 

To her children: ‘‘You, Dick and Jim, git away frum 
under my feet. If yo’ little niggers don’t clar out frum 
dis room, ahTl beat yer wooly heads togedder. How kin 
Ah see dat dis cake gits jest de right brown, if yo’ keep 
askin’ me fer cookies an’ things? Take dat—boxing their 
ears—an’ march out doors.” 

The boys ducked a second blow, and rushing into the 
yard, each turned <a somersault, and grinned the content 
he felt. Then they began to sing: 

‘ ‘ O Miss Lu! sugar in ’er shoe, 

Show me de hole whar de hog jump fru.” 

For days the preparations for the marriage feast went 
on. Such baking, boiling, and every form of cooking, was 
never seen in “Mount Pisgah” before. 

Judge and Madam LeMonde had many things to occupy 
hand and brain, but still they gave much thought to the 
time when they should be parted from their only daugh¬ 
ter. She and George were the idols of their hearts. To 
lose one from the home even to gain a preaeher-son was 
an experience bringing pain and sorrow- Still their judg¬ 
ment confirmed the step; for, if they were to have the sad¬ 
ness of separation, they were to have the deep satisfac¬ 
tion of giving their daughter to a greater service. 

Miss Viola was busy most of the time preparing her 
trousseau. Many of the garments were made to order in 
Lexington, but much fancy work on delicate fabrics was 
done by the bride-to-be. 

The great day dawned at last. A holiday had been 
giVeh to airthe slaves on the plantation. The Judge de- 


192 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


eided to spare no expense in making the occasion as 
pleasant as possible. He had instructed his black people 
to have a barbecue at their quarters. Some of our read¬ 
ers are benighted as to the meaning of that great word. 
How shall we enlighten their ignorance $ Words are in¬ 
sufficient to set forth the joy and glory of this feast. We 
may try our best, but much must be left unrecorded. 

Two very long wooden tables were stretched on the 
ground behind the slaves’ cabins, under the splendid nat¬ 
ural forest trees which Kentucky boasted. The day be¬ 
fore an ox was killed, and a deep pit dug in the ground. 
Early on the eighteenth, the ox was suspended in this 
hole and a great fire lighted under the carcass. There 
for hours the body roasted in its own fat. Besides the 
ox, succulent roasting pigs were cooked whole, chickens 
were prepared in various way. All vegetables common 
to the season were gotten ready in unlimited abundance. 
Bread enough for all and much to spare appeared on the 
tables. Pies and cakes of many kinds lay in beautiful 
companionship with the other good things. Steaming 
coffee in abundance for all was on hand. And plenty of 
“Adam’s ale”—pure spring water. 

This barbecue feast was to be eaten after the marriage 
ceremony was performed. 

The wedding feast for the w r hite folks w r as spread on 
tables which had been placed under the pine trees some 
distance east of the great mansion. It was impossible to 
accommodate all the invited guests in the dining-room of 
the house, and Viola decided to have the dinner served in 
the open air under the trees. As to the quality and 
quantity of this feast it is only necessary to say that Aunt 
Dinah and her satellites had been preparing it for days, 
and the proud cook was intending tb stake her reputation 


I THEE WED 


193 


as to ability on it for all time to come. The result waa 
worthy of the effort she had made. 

On the morning of the eighteenth came the great event. 
Let us try to picture the scene. It was to be an open air 
wedding. Viola had requested that all the colored peo¬ 
ple be permitted to witness the ceremony. There were 
hundreds of them, big and little, old and young. They 
were disposed by Mose and others under the pine trees 
nearest to the river. 

'Grouped nearer to the mansion were the members of 
the mission school, many planters and their families, 
some guests from Lexington and other places. Just by 
the pavement in front of the piazza ia chair had been pro¬ 
vided for Madam LeMonde. 

The principals in the ceremony were in a bedroom up¬ 
stairs.. 

And now the strains of a wedding march floats out over 
the great company, played by a pianist from Paducah. 

With slow and measured step the wedding party de¬ 
scend the broad stairway. We see Susanna Spink walk¬ 
ing before. In her hand is a basket of magnificent roses. 
These with leaves of others she strews in the way before 
the approaching persons. 

First come George LeMonde, best man, and Miss Stella 
Nebeker, bridesmaid, with her arm linked in his. Then 
follow arm in arm Rev. Jasper Very, bridegroom, and 
Rev- John Larkin, the officiating minister. In the rear 
we behold the lovely bride, Miss Viola LeMonde, beauti¬ 
fully dressed, leaning upon the arm of her father, Judge 
LeMonde. Under the shadow of the pine trees, near the 
piazza, the wedding company take position, and the cere, 
mony begins. 


194 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


The minister asks: ‘ ‘ Who gives the bride away 1 ’’ The 
Judge replies: “I give the bride away,” land he walks to 
the rear while the bride steps to the side of the bride¬ 
groom. The ceremony, brief but most impressive, is con¬ 
ducted according to the ritual of the church, and the 
minister solemnly pronounces them husband and wife. 

Presently the black people under the leadership of 
Mose and others go to their quarters to enjoy the great 
barbecue feast. The white people are invited to take 
seats around the loaded tables placed under the pines 
trees. As we glance over the company we behold many 
kind friends whom we have met in the course of this nar¬ 
rative. A large number from the mission school were 
there, including the whole Spink family, and some mem¬ 
bers of the Sneath and Wiles families. They were under 
the care of Miss Henrietta Harvey, who was now their 
capable and devoted superintendent. 

Jolly Costello Nebeker and his good lady were present. 
He seemed to thrive in every way by running his tavern 
on cold water principles. His hearty, hilarious laugh was 
as contagious tas the measles. Honest David Hester and 
his folks were given seats near the head of the table. The 
other planters were also well represented: Abner Hunt, 
the fiery little man from down river, and Hans Schmidt, 
the large, fair-faced German, with several others. Hiram 
Sanders, the herculean blacksmith of Bridgewater, had 
a place at the table. 

When the great feast was nearly over and ices were be¬ 
ing served, Judge LeMonde arose and thus spoke: “Dear 
friends, I do not wish to interrupt the meal, neither do I 
wish to make a speech, only to say that Madam LeMonde 
and myself count this one of the greatest days of our 
lives. It surely has a tinge of sorrow in it but the joy 


I THEE WED 


195 


far surpasses the sadness. I am very glad indeed to be¬ 
hold you enjoying the felicities of the occasion. There 
is a bit of the program to hake place that nobody on the 
grounds knows anything about except Mrs. LeMonde and 
myself. I request at this time that my son George go to 
the slaves’ gathering and bring back with him my servant 
Mose.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation George started to do the 
errand his father tasked. By the time the ices had disap¬ 
peared the white man and the black man came on to the 
lawn. A look of curiosity and wonder passed over the 
company, and all gazed in the direction of the Judge and 
his servant. 

As to Mose he was much taken aback. He appeared 
confused and bewildered. He thought it was not possible 
that his master would blame him for neglecting some duty 
or doing a bad deed on such a day and before such a 
company. 

The Judge, calling his servant to come near, arose and 
said: “I have decided on this memorable occasion to re¬ 
pay in some measure the devotion and sacrifice of a very 
faithful and trustworthy servant. I have found Mose 
honest, obedient, kind, and always willing to do his part 
of the work. More than this he has risked his life to pro¬ 
tect his young mistress from falling into the hands of 
desperate outlaws. Because of this heroic endeavor I 
have decided, Mose, to set you free. I hold in my hand 
the paper properly made out, and from this hour you are 
free to go where you will. But we do not want to lose you 
from the plantation. If you stay, I will pay you suitable 
wages for your work. I will also give you three acres of 
good land near the negroes’ quarters and will build a 
nice frame house upon it. I am sure my daughter Viola 


196 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


will be glad to furnish the house as a reward for the ser¬ 
vice you rendered her. In due time you can bring the 
young woman to whom you are engaged to the house as 
your bride. 

“What do you say, Mose, will you go or stay?” 

The poor black man was almost too overcome with emo¬ 
tion to answer a word* Tears streamed down his cheeks, 
and he could scarcely stand. However, he managed to 
say: “Mas’r LeMonde, how kin Ah thank you fur yo* 
kindness? Leave you an’ dis plantation? Not while de 
sun shines in de heavens. As Ah was w r illin’ to die fer 
Miss Viola, I would any time lay dow my life fer you, 
Judge, or ary one of de fambly.” 

“Well, you are a good boy, and,” after handing him the 
paper, “now you can go to your friends at the quarters.” 

When the curtain was rung down on this scene, in a 
metaphorically sense, it rose on another of much interest. 

The wedding party and guests were still sitting at the 
tables when honest David Hester, arising to his feet, said: 
“I move that we all drink a toast to our newly married 
friends, and that we drink it in pure cold water. Also, 
that John Larkin speak to the toast in behalf of the com¬ 
pany.” This motion was seconded by more than a dozen 
voices, the glasses were filled from the living spring, and 
the toast was drunk in the best liquid the world has ever 
seen. 

John Larkin arose and said: “It gives me great pleas¬ 
ure to speak a few words on this happy and auspicious 
occasion. First, I wish to thank Judge and Miadam Le¬ 
Monde for the sumptuous repast they have provided for 
all who are present. (Loud applause all down the line.) 
Next, I desire to say some true words respecting our hon¬ 
ored bridegroom. I have known Jasper Very for several 


I THEE WED 


197 


years, and have been his colleague most of the time- I 
do not overstep the mark when I declare that he is the 
greatest preacher in Kentucky today. (Cries of “That’s 
so,” and applause.) He stands foursquare for righteous¬ 
ness seven days in the week. He is a terror to evil doers. 
It is by such men's work and sacrifices that we shall 
stamp out ruffianism, and lift our State to a high respect 
for law and order. (Clapping of hands.) His career is yet 
before him, and I believe his name will be handed down 
to coming generations as an eloquent, zealous, fearless, 
and successful preacher of the gospel. (Loud applause 
by the whole company.) My only ambition is that I may 
be his traveling companion in the ministry as long as 
possible, for he is to me an inspiration, a help, and, best 
of all, a devoted friend. (Cheers by all.) 

“What shall I say concerning the lady who this day be¬ 
comes his wife ? He might have searched the State over, 
and not found so suitable a life companion. She was the 
originator of the mission school, and its prosperity is seen 
by the number of its members who are here today. (Much 
hand clapping by the people from the hills.) Yes, and 
she would not let the fear of highwaymen keep her from 
the straight path of duty. By an outlaw’s bullet, she was 
brought to the verge of death, but God in mercy spared 
her in answer to our prayers. God surely intended her 
to be a preacher’s wife. He gave her a voice to sing 
which melts the stony heart, he gave the opportunity for 
culture so that she can lift up the minds as well as the 
morals of the people. Her graciousness is surpassed only 
by her humility, and her beauty of face and form only by 
the loveliness and perfection of her spirit. To high and 
low she is the finest type of American womanhood,” 
(Long continued applause, especially by the hill crowd*) 


198 


THE KENTUCKY RANGER 


The after-dinner speeches were ended, and the bride 
and groom retired to their dressing rooms in the man¬ 
sion, where the wedding garments were taken off and 
traveling suits substituted. Soon they appeared on the 
front piazza, most of the invited guests still remaining 
on the lawn. 

By a previous arrangement Mose was to be the honored 
driver of the carriage, to take them to the railway station. 
Never was there a prouder or happier negro. He showed 
the importance of his duty in every turn of his body- He 
was dressed in a new suit of clothes, and a tall silk hat 
ornamented his wooly head. He held his whip and lines 
like a master of horse. 

Some fond good-byes, a few tears like April showers 
with the sun shining, a crack of the whip, and Velox and 
Prince are off on the happy journey. 

So we leave them as with 

“Two souls with but a single thought, 

Two hearts to beat as one,” 

they set out on their life work. 

We have heard that our hero became a mighty preach¬ 
er, whose praise was in all the churches. His fields of 
labor widened with the years. His reputation w T ent be¬ 
fore him, and he was known in many States ias an origin¬ 
al and marvelous genius, but to us he will ever be remem¬ 
bered as The Kentucky Ranger. 

















































































